Forbidden
by The Dark Shark
Summary: [AU] A continuation to the oneshot 'Not Goodbye'. After 15 years, Jesse and Suze meet again. Will their love survive despite his parents' disapproval and third parties' involvement?
1. Flashback

_**All characters are disclaimed to Meg Cabot.**_

This is a continuation to _Not Goodbye_. I've decided to start anew because the style of writing in this story is different than the one in _Not_ _Goodbye_, which was written more as a one-shot. And in this story I might switch around the Point of View between Suze and Jesse, but I'm not sure yet. I might.

This story will be AU, so expect some differences especially regarding Jesse and his family.

My interpretation of the age-old tale of forbidden love.

Feedbacks are very much welcomed!

-Aina-

* * *

_**Suze**_

Three months.

Three months of pure hell, and then a month of pure bliss.

I know that this is wrong. Wrong because we're going against his parents' wishes, wrong because we're sneaking around and lying to our friends, wrong because we're never sure if what we have will last.

But for something that is so wrong, it just feel so_ right_.

Maybe the fact that we have a special something that only both of us know makes us a little braver, a little rebellious. Our own sacred secret. I don't know, but to tell you the truth, it's kinda fun.

Jesse doesn't want to push things with his parents and I don't want to make him. I'm fine with what we have at the moment, as long as I'm with him. Those few months of trying to forget, trying to accept, trying to be happy, was torture. And once he swept me into his arms, I never wanted to leave.

He left his date at the party, saying he had an emergency. A part of me felt guilty while another was too happy to care.

Should I care?

Jesse and I are destined to be with each other. I knew that the first time we met. Well actually, the second time.

It was a sunny summer morning and I was at the park, jogging. My headphones were on and that was my mistake. I didn't hear the guy sneaking up behind me.

The dead guy, I mean.

Next thing I knew I was on the ground and being punched relentlessly. I didn't know why he was so mad. The only thing I did the day before was told him that his multi-million worth of a dot-com company was sold to another company after his death. After all, he was the one who told me to find out about his company's fate.

Maybe he was mad at the fact that I prevented him from trying to kill the new owner of his company and took out his anger at me instead. That I could understand a little.

I didn't scream. I should have, but all my life I've never screamed when ghosts of various kinds attacked me and I never intend to, even though my life was at stake. It's a pride thing, I guess.

And besides, if I scream, people will think I'm weird for being scared of thin air. They didn't know that thin airs could punch, of course.

But it turned out I didn't need to scream because someone noticed my distress anyway. At first I thought he came over to see why in the universe I was punching at nothing, but when he pulled the ghost guy from me and gave him a punch of his own, I was left feeling surprised yet relieved. Another mediator, I thought. Cool.

That was before I passed out.

I woke up in the hospital and immediately thought about getting out of there. Hospitals remind me of other previous bad encounters with ghosts, and the smell of medicines makes me sick.

He was still there. He came over and said he was a doctor working at the hospital, and made me sit back so that he could check me for the last time before I could be discharged. A lot of bruises and some grass-burns, but nothing broken, lucky me.

I heard the other staff call him Hector. And I realized for the first time that he was very good-looking. Latino hottie who was a mediator _and_ a doctor. Lucky, lucky me.

He asked for my name. "Suze Simon," I replied.

The man I knew only as Hector stared at me, his hand paused on my bandaged arm. "_Susannah_ Simon?"

I was about to ask him how the heck did he know that when I suddenly felt that he looked familiar. But I couldn't place where I had met him.

He smiled a perfect smile and said, "Jesse De Silva."

And then I knew where I had seen him and why I couldn't remember. It was at least 15 years since we last met.

My mom and I went on a vacation to Spain when I was 7. We had been planning to have that vacation for a while, but then God decided to take my dad away and that trip never happened. But about a year after my dad's death, my mom decided that our mourning time was over, and we should get some time alone away from the bustle of New York City. And so I found myself at the city of Madrid.

There I befriended a small girl who was fascinated with my ability to do back flips – something I learned from the ghost of a female gymnast. The girl's older brother was not too happy when I started to teach his sister to do flips – he said it was dangerous - but soon we became friends too. He must have been 11 then.

Jesse said that he and his family moved to the US about a year later after one of his younger sisters was offered a place in a prominent dance school. They've stayed in San Francisco since then, with occasional trips back to Spain to see their other family members.

I couldn't help but be amazed that he remembered me. I asked him how did he know that I was _the _Susannah Simon, and he grinned as he said, "I remember that the young Susannah wasn't afraid of hitting a boy who she said was disturbing her and her friend even though all he wanted to do was to make sure that his sister wasn't hurt. And I could see that same spirit in the Susannah in front of me who wasn't afraid to fight off her attacker, even at the expense of her own life."

I flushed at that, but it was nothing compared to when he continued, "And how could I forget those beautiful green eyes?"

I never used to believe in fate and destiny, but meeting Jesse again after so long made me believe that maybe, just maybe…we were meant to be.

Of course, catching up with Jesse on the years since we've last met not to mention sharing stories on our mediating adventures took a few meetings, and finally about a month after we met at the park, he asked me out to dinner. Our first official date.

After dinner, we took a stroll at the beach under the moonlight. The setting was as romantic as it could be. Unfortunately I wasn't feeling the romance due to the fact that my shoes were filled with sand and I had to take them off and walked barefoot, which wasn't very comfortable.

And then there was my dress. I had decided to be girly for once and wear a light peach-colored summer dress, which was pretty and all that. But when I said light, I meant _light_. The dress's hem that reached my knees kept being blown by the wind – reminisce of Marilyn Monroe's famous pose and all – so I was pretty much struggling with one hand holding my shoes and the other making sure that my dress stayed down and anything that wasn't supposed to be seen stayed unseen.

But the breeze calmed for a moment, giving us just enough time to stood still watching the waves crashing against the beach and a second later for Jesse to lean down and give me a kiss.

All things considered, it was a pretty darn good first date.

Of course it was heaven for the next two months, until that day he brought me to meet his family at his parents' house. Strangely enough, his younger sisters were the ones I worried about since I had imagined them to be guarded against the girl who had taken away their brother, but my fears were unfounded. His first three sisters remembered me from years ago, and that was enough for them to accept me. The other two were too little to be judgmental and were just happy to meet me.

I never thought that it would be his parents objecting to our relationship. It wasn't exactly what they had said, even when we had that conversation at the end. It was how they _looked_ at me.

His mother was accepting at first, but looked disapproved the moment I said I could not cook Spanish cooking. "Jesse loves Spanish cooking" she had said coolly.

But his father had looked disapproved the moment I walked in with my pale skin and green eyes. He asked me about my family, and my reply that my mother had remarried after my father's death was greeted with a dead silence. Apparently he believed that a person should only have one marriage in his or her life. Obviously he thought that one day I might leave Jesse for another man, or - God forbid - remarried when Jesse had died.

The clincher? "You cannot speak Spanish? But everyone in our family speaks Spanish. It's our mother tongue."

And the door to the De Silva house was officially closed to poor, little, language-challenged Suze Simon.

I felt that to end it with Jesse was the best thing for us to do. I hadn't foreseen the pain that took place in my heart in the following weeks or how I wished I had died when I saw him and his date at the office party held by the company where CeeCee worked. So when we were together once more, the least I thought about was his parent's reactions.

None of those matters, especially when I see him walking towards me as I sit in his car, waiting for him to open the car door on my side. And when we walk towards his house where he lives alone and where we could finally spend some private time between the crazy schedules of our jobs. We couldn't go out to town except in places that aren't in the heart of the city where we are less likely to bump into people that we know who might tell on us, intentionally or not, but it doesn't matter. We are happy just to be together.

I had no idea that our bliss will end sooner than both of us expected.


	2. Fate

Sorry this took so long! Hope there are still people who want to read this. Or cats, sharks or ants, I'm not picky.

Thanks to Stephanie Sunshine, who is my main motivator to continue writing this story.

I've decided that I will switch around the story between Suze and Jesse's POV. And to anyone who was wondering, AU means Alternate Universe, and so the story isn't directly related to the Mediator books. Okay?

Read and review!

* * *

_**Jesse**_

After 15 years we met again. Fate dealt their cards and we received the good hand.

She was resilient, as I watched her fought off the deranged ghost as best as she could. It was after I had made sure that the ghost had gone somewhere else that I turned to her and saw that she was unconscious. I lifted her to my car and brought her to the San Francisco Memorial, noticing for the first time how beautiful she was.

And how lucky for her that it was me who had stumbled into the attack instead of someone without the gift of mediation.

When she woke up she wanted to get out of the hospital immediately. But I made her sit back so that I could check her again for any other injuries. There was something familiar to the bright green eyes, but I couldn't place them and I couldn't place her.

Then she said her name. Susannah Simon.

Strange how after that it seemed like no years had passed as we talked and got to know each other, again. Well, we didn't really talked the last time we met as we were at that age when we dislike the opposite sex, and she more to me as I tried to look after my sisters while she taught them complicated cartwheels and flips. Susannah thought I was too interfering.

It was almost a month after the fateful meeting at the park when I finally had the courage to ask her out. To formally court her. She agreed.

During the date, we talked about work and current events, and I began to realize how passionate Susannah was about her work as a counselor for troubled teens at the Social Development Centre. She cared about the children the way they were never cared by their own families, and I felt a tug in my heart as I listened to her talk about her latest case.

Can you fell in love with someone you've only known for a month? Well, a month and fifteen years if you wanted to be specific.

When we were standing at the beach and watched the waves, I thought, maybe you can after all.

I never kiss a lady on the first date. I just think that move is too forward and we should get to know each before becoming closer in that sense. But that night as I looked at Susannah's serene face as she gazed at the sea, her eyes reflecting the moon and I couldn't help myself. When she turned to face me, I lifted my hand to her face and kissed her.

Inside my head, I was appalled at myself, but I was too encouraged by her response to think straight. A kiss that was meant to be a peck on the lips turned into a full, deep and sensual one. It was different than any other kisses that I've had in my life. It was exhilarating.

When we finally pulled apart, I stammered for an apology for my rash behavior, but a smile from her told me that it was alright.

After that everything changed, for the better. As corny as it sounds, it was as if I had found my soul mate. The things we had in common pulled us together and the things we had in difference complemented each other. I just never thought that our differences would cause us so much pain.

My parents were eager but a little cautious when I told them that I wanted them to meet the woman that I've fallen in love with. It was about time too, since my sisters kept asking about Susannah, especially Marta who remembered Susannah from our meeting in Madrid. Everything was planned perfectly, and I thought it would go exactly as planned.

I was absolutely wrong.

All was well in the beginning. My father had questioned Susannah on her family, her job and pretty much everything else in her life. She took them well, if a little surprised. I wanted to rescue her, but I didn't want her to look helpless in front of my father, so I let her show him what she was made of.

On the other hand, my mother was happy, although I overheard her mentioning something about Spanish cooking to Susannah and I noticed both of them didn't seem too happy after that. I never actually found out what she said.

But the turning point was when I went to look at Josefina's drawing that was placed second in her school's annual drawing contest. I remember leaving Susannah with my parents at the kitchen while I went to the family hall with Josefina.

When I came back, I heard the last thing I ever thought I would hear. And it was my own father who had uttered the words.

"Susannah, you don't belong with Jesse. We've made the decision, and that's it."

"_Padre_!" I cried out in shock. I could not believe what I was hearing. "What _decision_ are you talking about?"

He looked at me hard. "Jesse, you know very well what I am saying. That girl is not your match. She doesn't have anything in common with our family. You know that –"

"I know that I love her! That's all that matters!" I almost shouted in disbelief and frustration. I looked to my mother for support, but she was standing besides my father, looking every bit disapproved as he was.

Then I realized that Susannah had left the kitchen, and I heard the front door slam. Turning around, I ran to the living room and out the front door, ignoring my mother's cries for me to stop.

I tried to stop Susannah. I tried to talk to her, to plead with her, but when she looked like she would agree to for us to still be together, she changed her mind. She said it was over, but even when I stood there watching her as she left, I knew that it wasn't.

I was too angry to speak to my parents after that, and left their house immediately, stopping only to say goodbye to my sisters. Marta and Mercedes understood, but they didn't say anything. Perhaps they saw the pain in my eyes, and the disappointment in my voice.

My calls to Susannah weren't answered or replied and soon I decided I couldn't go on not speaking to my parents. I was still angry, but I didn't want them to think that I was insolent. So a month later I went back to their house and pretended that the last incident never happened, and they were happy to go along with it.

I felt it was hard to forgive them, though. And I wasn't so sure that I did, especially since my mother was so eager for me to be with the daughter of one of her friends. She was Spanish, so immediately she was perfect in my parents' eyes. They didn't even care that she worked as a model, which in my opinion was the most useless job in the world. It was sickening.

I never stopped thinking about Susannah. It was almost to the point of hallucination, because my heart quickened whenever I saw a glimpse of long chestnut hair or heard a voice that sounded just like hers. But the hair always belonged to another woman, as did the voice. My best friend and colleague at the hospital where I worked, Dylan, noticed my strange behavior, but thankfully didn't say anything about it.

Then one day during one of my visit to my parents', my mother told me about this event that the daughter of that friend of hers was invited to. I ignored her obvious hints for me to go to that event with the _model_ until my mother put on a pretense of being upset and started chattering about waiting so long for me to get married and being too old for any grandchildren until I couldn't take it anymore and agreed to go to the stupid event.

So there I was, bored almost to death, listening as my date for the evening, Theresa, talked to supposedly important people who meant nothing to me. There were times when I felt like I was being watched, but when I looked around, I didn't see anyone I knew.

Then I heard it. Laughter, so clear and familiar, like music to my ears. Instinctively I turned around, even though experience told me that it was probably one of my imaginations again. But it was not.

It was her. It was Susannah.

I stood and stared at her, and she looked back at me, her chestnut hair that had so long haunted my dreams tied up neatly and her light green dress matched her beautiful eyes perfectly. This time, the hair, and the voice were really hers.

Then she smiled a brave smile even though her eyes were sad, and without thinking, I walked towards her.

She looked surprised, and I half-expected her to run, but she stayed where she was. And when I took her in my arms and kissed her, I realized that it was better than any dreams that I ever had.

After that we continued our relationship in secret. Well, we didn't set out to intentionally deceive others but our principle was 'don't ask, don't tell'. So as long as no one asked me where I was going or what I was doing, no one needed to know that I was spending time with Susannah. Especially my parents.

We didn't know how long this would go on, but there were no time to think about the long-term. We were together, that was all that mattered at the moment.

The moment, which unfortunately didn't last that long.

--0-0-0-0--

"So. Aren't you gonna tell me?"

I looked up to see Dylan leaning against the counter of the nurse station, his right hand holding a cup of coffee while the other in the pocket of his white coat, and he was smirking at me.

I turned back to the row of files of my patients on the counter. "Tell you what?"

He sighed exaggeratedly, shaking his head. "Why you're so happy."

"Do I look happy?" And I knew I didn't. I rarely was when nearing the end of my shift after a day of treating patients and hence being as tired as hell.

He put the cup of coffee on the counter, winking at a nurse named Lisa who was sitting there. She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. We all knew of Dylan's reputation. Ladies' man.

"I'm not talking about today. I'm talking about in general. You know, like these past few weeks…I see that you actually seem happy. Not sulking and brooding and walking around like Dr. Doom, scaring away all the patients. I even had to comfort a small child from the trauma after being treated by you," he said, putting on a fake concerned expression.

I fixed him a look. "I wasn't _that_ bad. I just had some problems…and it's been resolved. So now I'm feeling much better."

He sipped his coffee. "Does it have anything to do with that girl?"

_Nombre de Dios. _I almost dropped the files. "What girl?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant even though my heart felt like it had stopped. He couldn't have known about Susannah. There was no possible way.

"That hot girl. She came to see you here the other day. The one who looked like Salma Hayek." Dylan grinned his perfect teeth. "You two have something going on then?"

Breathing a small sigh of relief, I arranged the files back to their positions. Now that I knew he didn't know anything about Susannah, I started feeling angry about Theresa and her continuous meddling with my life. "No, it has nothing to do with her. _I _don't have anything to do with her. If you see her next time, just tell her I'm not in. Okay?"

"Okay, okay. Don't get your knickers in a twist," he said, using one of the expressions he heard from his favorite British TV show. Then he went to throw his empty cup into the trash bin.

Picking up the file for my last patient for the day, I turned to walk to his ward when Dylan suddenly came to stand beside me.

"It's Suze, isn't it?" he said in a low voice, his dark blue eyes looking seriously into mine. "You've made up with her."

I swallowed, feeling my heart racing. I wanted to lie and say that he was wrong, but even without me saying anything, I knew that he already knew. He wasn't joking when he said it this time. His face had lost all of the humor that he had earlier.

In the end, I decided to give in. Looking around to make sure no one was near enough to hear our conversation, I sighed and said, "How did you know?"

"Jesse, I'm your best friend, and there are things that best friends can guess without having to tell each other anything. I may be blonde, but I'm not dumb."

Glancing at his blue-black hair, I narrowed my eyes. "You're not blonde," I stated.

He smiled wickedly. "That's what _you _think."

Shaking my head, I tried to get around the fact that Dylan knew about my relationship with Susannah. The one that was supposed to be a secret. "Dylan, you're right, but we're trying to keep it between us –"

"Dr. Rourke? Mrs. Swinney is complaining of chest pains again," Lisa interrupted us from the station, a phone in her hand.

"I'll be right there," Dylan replied, before turning back to me. "Look, I don't know what's going on between you two and your parents and all, but don't worry. I won't tell anyone. That's not my style."

Then he walked away, and I stood there for a moment before making my way to my patient's room. I didn't doubt Dylan and I knew that he will keep his word, but at the same time it worried me. I hoped no one else had noticed anything about this.

I turned the knob to the private room of Mr. Stanley, who was being warded after suffering a heart attack. He's stable now, though, and should be released in a few days.

I pulled the curtains and saw that he was sleeping. Walking over to his clipboard at the foot of his bed, I checked his vitals and made some notes. Then I checked his drip to make sure the amount was right, before taking his pulse and blood pressure. He didn't even stir in his sleep. I was so intent on doing my job that I didn't notice there was someone sitting on a chair at the back corner of the room. It was when the person stood up that I noticed him in the corner of my eyes.

"Visiting hours is over, sir. Please come back tomorrow," I said, without looking up from writing the notes on Mr. Stanley's file.

There was a pause. "You can see me?"

Instantly, I looked up and saw that the man was glowing a faint yellow. I mentally kicked myself. Why didn't I notice that before I spoke? I must have been more tired than I thought.

"You can see me?" he asked again, now looking excited. I took in his simple appearance of white shirtsleeve and black trousers, his young, open face and guessed that he must have been around 20 years old when he died. So young, and all of a sudden I felt pity for him.

I glanced back to the door to make sure that it was shut before replying, "Yes, I can see you. I'm a mediator. It's my job to help those who have passed away to move on."

He nodded slowly, looking amazed. "I never knew people like you actually existed. I thought it was just a myth."

Despite my weariness, I smiled. "Well, we don't actually advertise ourselves. I'm Hector de Silva. And you are?"

"Darren Murphy," he replied and shook hands with me. I felt strange. Never in my life had I actually shook hands with a ghost.

"Darren. Do you know why you are still here?" I asked.

He looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know why you haven't moved on? Why you are still lingering on earth?"

"You mean it's not my fate to be a ghost forever?" He looked shocked.

I shook my head and smiled shortly. "It's highly unlikely. Usually those who became ghosts after they passed away have unfinished business that they must attend to. And from my experience, after whatever deed that has to be completed _is_ completed, the person will move on."

"Oh." He looked like he was thinking. "I see."

"Are there any unfinished business that you have to do? I can help you with that."

He didn't reply. Instead, he stared at Mr. Stanley who was peacefully sleeping.

I knew that he was new to this whole ghost situation, and I should be more patient, but it was already 8.45pm and my shift was supposed to end 15 minutes ago. I was hungry, tired and the last thing I needed was to help a ghost who appeared to be as lost about his predicament as I was.

Sighing, I said, "Darren, I'm sorry, but can you think of any things that – "

"We've been friends since we were 10," he suddenly said. He was still staring at my patient, a sad expression on his face. "I hate to see him looking like this."

Puzzled, I tried to understand what he was saying. "Are you talking about Mr. Stanley?"

He smiled wistfully. "Steven Stanley. All of us used to call him 'Skinny Stanley' at school because he was one of the skinniest people you'd ever met. It's not like he didn't eat, he did eat, in fact sometimes more than the rest of us. The doctors said it was high metabolism or something like that. He was skinny, but as healthy as a horse."

I looked at the young face of Darren, to the wrinkled face and grey hair of 56-year-old Mr. Stanley. He was not making sense. Unless…"How long is it since you've passed away?"

Darren's face changed and he looked confused, as well as something I couldn't quite identify. "Last month. Just two weeks after my 57th birthday." Then he looked at me. "Imagine my surprise, waking up and seeing myself like this, like I just graduated from high school. Do you know why?"

I nodded slowly, realising what had happened to him. "Sometimes ghosts appear in the form of themselves at the peak of their life. That may be why you end up looking like that, instead of how you looked like when you passed away," I explained.

He nodded, then just stood there staring at Mr. Stanley again. I glanced discreetly at my watch. It was now 5 minutes to 9pm.

Frustration building inside me, I took a deep breath and said as pleasantly as I could, "Darren, I want to help you. But you must tell me anything you know about… anything that might relate to why you ended up as a ghost."

Darren looked up at me, and I realized that the expression I couldn't recognize earlier was anger. "I was murdered. And the same people who did that also tried to kill Steven. I know it."

_Dios._ That was not the answer I was hoping to hear.

"How do you know that? Do you have any evidence?" I asked, trying to keep the doubt out of my voice.

"No I don't. Not yet though. But if you want to help me, look into the YLN Corporations. They've been buying some of the hotels in the city in order to create their own hotel chain and monopolize the hotel industry. Me, Steven and Robert own the Hotel Twenty but we didn't want to sell it. A few months later, I'm dead by food poisoning, and now Steven is in the hospital supposedly of heart attack. I know it must be them, their doing." He looked outraged.

I was quiet for a moment, thinking. "But there aren't any signs of foul play in Mr. Stanley's conditions. How do you know that he didn't get it naturally?"

"Because Steven is one of the healthiest man I know. Remember I told you about him in school? Well, he ain't that skinny now, but he sure is as healthy. He plays golf, squash, and even tennis sometimes. Suddenly he fell over sick. It's not natural."

"The disease could be hereditary," I said, trying to look at all the possible angles. Murder was the last thing I wanted to consider.

Darren sighed. "Hector, I know his family, alright? No one in his family has ever suffered from heart disease. Not his mom, his dad, his grandparents, his brother or sister. This is done by someone. And I have no doubt that it's one of those from the YLN Corp."

I shook my head, trying to think of other reasons. But he sounded so sure, and despite how young he looked, he sounded like someone who had lived long and knew much. I wasn't sure if ghosts retain their knowledge from their life even after coming back in their younger self, but looking at Darren, I wouldn't rule it out.

"I have to have something to go by. You cannot expect me to walk up to the company and start to investigate them. If what you're saying is true, this is a very serious situation," I told him.

He thought for a while. "Alright. I'll deal with that. In the meantime, please warn Robert about this. I have a feeling he might be next on their list."

"Robert who –"I started to ask, but he had already dematerialized.

Great, Jesse. Now look what you've gotten yourself into.

Picking up the file and the blood pressure device, I walked out of the room. From the clock at the nurse station, I saw that it was already 9.15pm. I know I should start thinking of plans regarding Darren and his theory on YLN, but I was too tired. I've been working since 8am this morning, and at the moment I just want to go back, eat some dinner and sleep.

After saying good night to the nurses, I walked towards the locker room. On the way, I saw Dylan, who has the night shift. He was talking to a surgeon and didn't see me.

Seeing him reminded me of Susannah. As usual, when I think about Susannah, I thought about what she was doing at the moment, and when would I see her again. We haven't seen each other in about a week, both being busy with our jobs but we promised to meet this weekend. Two more days, I thought.

After taking a shower and changing out of my uniform, I grabbed my bag and left the hospital. As I drove home, I wondered if I should stop by and buy some food. Sometimes I cook my own dinner, but tonight I didn't feel like cooking. I didn't feel like dropping by any shops either, and decided to go home and order some takeaways.

When I pulled up the driveway, I noticed that the living room lights were on. I switched off the car engine, frowning. That's odd. I always switch off all the lights when I leave my house in the morning. I got out of the car and walked up to the front door. While I selected my key, I felt uneasy. I wondered if my mother had decided to come after all, even though I had told her that I couldn't eat dinner with her that night. But she doesn't have my house key. In fact, no one else has one but me.

Slowly, I unlocked the front door and pushed the door open. Everything looked normal, and I walked in, looking around the front hall. I wondered if I should have a weapon of some sort, in case there's a burglar or somebody like that. As I closed the door behind me, I was contemplating on whether to pick up the umbrella in the stand to serve as my weapon, when I smelled something delicious. Something like food.

I groaned inwardly. It _was_ my mother. She had decided to come and cook dinner for me because I couldn't come to my parents' house that night. Taking off my coat, I put on a happy expression, even though I didn't think I could handle her lectures right now.

I turned to walk to the kitchen when someone walked out of it and leaned against the wall in front of me. I froze. It wasn't my mother after all.

"Hi Jesse," she said, smiling.

I couldn't help but smile back. "Hello _querida_."


	3. Friction

I'm back from my Mediator Hiatus, and let me say that it was a wonderful vacation, but now I'm back in the fanfic world.

Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews my stories. You guys have no idea how much it means to me.

Things start going wrong in this chapter for Suze and Jesse. We all love little obstacles, don't we?

Drop your thoughts after you've read this!

-Aina-

* * *

_**Suze**_

There's nothing like seeing the man you love smiling at you after a hard day at work.

I didn't actually plan to prepare the dinner for Jesse, but I got off early from work after my Levington case was settled; the 8-year-old boy ended up living with his mother. I came home and showered, and as I was about to start cooking, I suddenly thought about Jesse. I wondered if he would mind if I sprung a surprise dinner for him.

So I went to buy some groceries, and went over to his place. He had told me that he kept a spare key on top of the wall lamp besides the front door and yep, it was there. After opening the door and replacing the key, I set about to cook dinner.

It was an hour later, sitting at the table waiting for him that I realized my stupidity. Of course Jesse was supposed to be home already, but what if he ate dinner outside? With Dylan, maybe?

Stupid me.

I was reheating the food when I heard a car pulled up the driveway. And it wasn't long before this gorgeous man of mine was standing right in front of me.

"Hello _querida_. You look beautiful."

"Thank you. I hope you don't mind, me coming here and cooking dinner," I smiled, as he walked towards me.

"Susannah, I don't mind having food here, and I _definitely_ don't mind having you here," he grinned before pulling me closer for a kiss.

Hmm. _I _definitely don't mind kisses.

He smelled so good, the soapy clean smell plus that perfect Jesse essence which I can never figure out. His hair was still wet from the shower, and I had a helluva time running my fingers through it. I felt his hand on the small of my back before I realized that he had pressed me against the wall, kissing me so sweetly and thoroughly.

After a moment, we pulled up for air and I realized we had to stop making out if we were going to have dinner at all. So reluctantly, I said, "Dinner. Food's getting cold."

Jesse smiled cheekily. "Can't it wait a few more minutes?" Then he bent down to kiss my neck.

Giggling like a foolish schoolgirl, I pushed him away playfully. "No, Jesse, it can't. You must be hungry…unless you've already eaten?"

He pulled away, sighing. "No, I haven't. Maybe I had a feeling you would be here."

"Call it mediator sense then. Well, let's eat," I pulled him to the dining room.

"Something smells delicious," Jesse said, sitting down at the end of the table. Then instantly he got up again, shaking his head. "What am I doing? Susannah, let me help you."

I laughed and made him sit down again. "It's okay, Jesse. I got it. You just sit down, okay?"

He protested of course, but I shushed him and went over to the kitchen. I scooped out the chicken and potatoes from the oven and took the Greek salad from the counter. Then I brought them to the dining table, before returning to the kitchen to get the drinks.

Since Jesse was sitting at the head of the table, it seemed only appropriate that I sit at the other end, you know, like the normal way people do. Oh well, screw that. I sat down at the side on Jesse's right instead.

"This looks wonderful, _querida,_" Jesse said, leaning over to give me a peck on the lips.

"Let's hope they taste wonderful too," I joked, putting the napkin on my lap.

He smiled. "I doubt if they don't."

So we ate. I must admit that the food didn't disappoint. I had the right to be apprehensive though since I haven't been cooking in a long time. I only really started to cook when Cee Cee left the apartment that we shared together to move in with Adam a few months ago. Usually, she's the cook of the house, while I try to make up by washing the dishes and cleaning the house. Then she left, and I had to call up my mom to remind me all the recipes that she had taught me when I was living by myself during my university years.

Of course, when I've gotten the hang of this, I'll think up my own recipes. Why not? I might even try cooking some Spanish dishes for Jesse. I'm sure he would love that.

We talked about work. I told him about the boy in the Levington case, and he told me about some of his patients. One of them was a guy who suffered heart attack, and Jesse said he suspected it was caused by genes or old age, before something else made him rethink his decision.

"A ghost visited you?" I repeated, pausing in the midst of cutting my chicken.

Jesse nodded. "He said he was a friend of the patient, Mr. Stanley. He appeared younger though, in his twenties I would assume, even though when he died he was in his fifties. He claimed that he was murdered, and that his friends, Mr. Stanley and another man he only mentioned as Robert are both in danger of being murdered too."

"But how would he know that?"

Jesse then explained about the three men owning Hotel Twenty (a very grand hotel I must say, five stars all the way) and about a company called YLN Corporation trying to buy the hotel. Wait, YLN Corporation….

"I've heard of YLN Corporation," I said, realizing something. "I read something about them having this genius CEO or something who's heading the company, and that their shares are doing really well in the first half of this year even though they only registered in Nasdaq late last year."

"Understandable, since they had bought some of the most successful hotels in San Francisco and made them their own," Jesse agreed.

"Except for Hotel Twenty," I said.

Jesse frowned at me. "Susannah, what are you thinking? You don't think that the Darren ghost was actually right, do you?"

I shrugged. "You have to admit Jesse, it does sound suspicious. I mean, it wouldn't hurt to check it out, right?"

"No, you're not checking anything out," Jesse said firmly. "He came to me, and I'll think of a way to handle this."

"But…Jesse, I'm not new in this mediator business. What if he had come to me instead of you? I would have to help him, wouldn't I?" I said, feeling a little uneasy.

He sighed. "I know, Susannah. But he came to me. I'm not implying that you don't know how to mediate, I just…I just don't want to be worried about you. If Darren is right, we're facing a dangerous opponent here, one capable of murder. I don't want you to get involved in something like this."

In spite of my feminism-girl-power feelings, I smiled. How can I be mad at him when I know that he was just looking out for me?

"Jesse, don't worry. I'm not going to do something stupid like march up the company and demand that they confess to the murder. I'm just gonna do some searches – _online_ searches - about the company. Maybe it will help you figure out what to do," I said, reaching over to clasp his hand.

He squeezed my hand, still with that worried look on his handsome face. "You don't have to. It will interfere with your work, and –"

"Jesse…" I couldn't help but laugh. "Stop worrying! Finding stuff on the Internet is hardly called interfering. Just tell me if you need any help, okay? I'm right here. I can help you. You think I want you to get involved with this too? I mean, you know what they say, two heads are better than one. You don't have to deal with this alone."

He looked at me for a moment before slowly breaking into a smile. "Well, I guess you're right."

I smirked. "Of course I am. More potatoes?"

Jesse rolled his eyes and took the plate from me. I continued my meal, my thoughts straying back to YLN Corp. I think I'll ask Cee Cee about them, seeing that being a reporter she would be privy to stuff that other people are not.

"Oh, I forgot to say. Dylan knows about us."

'Hmmm?" I asked distractedly.

"Dylan. Remember him? He knows about us."

My mind screeched to a halt. What? "What? How did he know about us?"

For some reason, Jesse looked uncomfortable. "He…he just guessed. He saw that I was in a good mood and…just assumed."

"Weren't you in a good mood before?" I didn't understand what he was saying. And I thought we had managed to keep this a secret!

"Not when we were…apart. When we had separated."

Oh. OH. I made Jesse to have good moods! Hmm, I wonder WHY. If only the bedroom walls can tell, whoo boy, what would they say…

"Susannah?"

Pushing away all inappropriate thoughts, I said, "Is he going to tell anyone? He better not!"

Jesse shook his head. "He said he won't. I believe him. I just thought you should know about it. Besides, I think this might help us. If anything comes up and you need to see me but I'm not available at the hospital, you can contact him. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"…Okay."

We finished up, and I moved to take away the plates. This time, Jesse insisted on helping and I relented. Then he insisted on washing the dishes too, and after a few minutes of protesting, I gave in.

Men. Always have to have their ways. Not that I mind, cleaning dishes isn't exactly on my Favorite Chores list. I don't even have such a list.

I went to the fridge and rummaged around for some fruits. That's when I found…

"Strawberries! Jesse, how could you buy strawberries and not tell me!"

Jesse glanced from the sink, a bored look on his face. "I would assume you already know, since you were the one who bought it. Last week, when you came over. Remember?"

No I didn't, I wanted to say. Hold on…oh yeah, I did. I smiled sheepishly at him and quickly opened the plastic packet, popping one of the strawberries in my mouth. Yummy.

I walked over to Jesse, picking up another one of the juicy fruits. "Want one?"

"Even if I said no, you would still give me, wouldn't you?" Jesse grinned. I feigned an innocent look before reaching over and putting a strawberry in his mouth. He chewed without taking his eyes off me, looking mischievous.

I leaned against the counter besides the sink and picked up another strawberry. Then I realized that he was still eyeing me, and decided to give him something to eye about.

Slowly, without taking my eyes of his, I brought the strawberry to my mouth and slowly licked it. After a few long seconds, I started to suck on the poor harmless strawberry. I saw that Jesse wasn't looking so mischievous anymore. In fact, he looked like he wanted to be the strawberry. Hehe. I held in my laughter and bit on the fruit instead.

Jesse watched me, the dishes forgotten, as I bit the strawberry until it was gone. Then, still holding his gaze, I licked the juices from my fingers slowly, tempting him.

Two seconds later, I had my lower back pressed against the counter as he leaned against me, kissing me like mad. I managed to put the strawberry packet on the counter before losing my thoughts to feeling.

Oh yeah. Kisses like _these_ don't come often.

Next thing I knew I was sitting on top of the counter, my legs wrapped around Jesse's hips, our lips tussling for each other. He slipped in his tongue between my lips and I could taste the strawberry in his mouth as he caressed my tongue. His hand gripped my left hip, before moving down to my leg and pulling up my skirt higher and higher, his fingers brushing against my thigh. His other hand was playing with my hair, then it was holding my face, and then it was warm against my breasts.

I grasped his shoulders, pulling him closer, feeling like I was drowning in his touch. I ran my hands along his chest, trying to give him some of what I was feeling, but as selfish as it sounded, at that moment all I could think about was taking in everything that he was giving.

Then he started moving downwards, kissing my throat, my neck, my shoulder. I leaned my head back, relishing on his tantalizing kisses. The feeling was… beyond words. His lips were still a little cool from the strawberry, and the coolness of his lips against the hotness of his breath made my senses practically havoc. Then I felt his tongue, hot and moist against my neck, sucking gently on the flesh, his teeth just grazing my sensitive skin.

Oh God. I think _I _might get a little moist down there.

I think I already did.

Wait a sec, this didn't feel moist…

It felt _wet._

I guessed Jesse felt it too, because we both pulled back at the same time and immediately saw the damage around us. It was the water from the tap! It had overflowed, over the sink and onto the counter, even on to the kitchen floor.

"_Nombre de Dios_!" Jesse exclaimed, looking at the flooded counter and the puddle that was growing on the floor, before leaping to the sink and turning the tap off.

I hopped of the counter, my Somerset Bay floaty skirt completely drenched on the back. I looked like I had peed on myself!

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Jesse said apologetically, taking some dishtowels and moving towards me. "I forgot to turn off the tap, and the cloth clogged the sink and…your skirt! It's ruined!"

I looked over at Jesse and saw that one side of his pants was wet too. I started giggling, even though I was a little mad that we had to stop our little rendezvous, and the fact that even my underwear was wet, and not for the reasons which I would have been glad for.

Major ewww-ness!

Jesse didn't seem to notice though. He was only eyeing my black skirt as if surveying the damage. "I can put your skirt in the dryer, I hope it's not dry clean only, because then we have to wait until tomorrow to send –"

I allowed my laugh to bubble out, and tiptoed over the water to him before wrapping my arms around his neck. "Am I rubbing off on you?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at me, puzzled. "What?"

I smiled and placed a kiss on his lips. "You're kinda babbling. Like I do sometimes. It's really funny."

He gave a short laugh. "Am I? I'm sorry. I was just…I ruined your skirt. "

"No, you didn't. It'll be fine after one round in the dryer. Besides, it was my fault too…I distracted you."

"You certainly did," Jesse grinned. "Do you want me to put your skirt in the dryer?"

"Well…" I pulled away from him and slipped off my skirt, holding it up by the waistline. "You could, but isn't the laundry room over there?"

He dragged his eyes away from my black lace panties (especially put on for tonight) and looked behind me to where I was pointing. "Yes."

"But aren't we going over there?"

He followed my gaze to behind him, in the direction of the stairs to the second floor where it resides the rooms in his house. Including his bedroom. He turned back towards me, grinning slowly. "Yes..?"

I let the skirt fall onto the floor. It was already wet anyway. "Well, what do you say we stop wasting time and go to where we're supposed to go?"

Jesse raised his scarred eyebrow, probably feeling a little weirded out by my boldness. Hey, a girl has needs too. Especially after the counter-top incident, there was no way I was going to go home without getting some.

He leaned down and gave me a hard, deep kiss before whispering, "Whatever you say, _mi querida._"

Just LOVE it when he calls me that. Gave me chills.

I made to move to his room when he walked back to the counter and picked up the packet of strawberries. This time_ I_ raised my eyebrows at him (I can't raise just one eyebrow, damn it), and he smirked.

"We don't want these to go to waste, do we?"

I blew him a kiss, then turned to walk up the stairs. "I like your thinking, _Hector_."

"Oh, please, don't call me that," he groaned, following me up the stairs and along the hall.

"Why not?" I said lightly, pushing open the door to his room.

"How would you like it if I call you Suzie?"

"No! Okay, I won't call you Hector."

Then he closed the door, and well…you know the rest. No need to explain. Just use your imagination, people.

-0-0-0-0-

I woke up with the sun shining on my face, feeling as contented as I could ever be.

Closing my eyes, I tried to slip back into the comforting world of dreamless sleep, even though the sounds of real life were seeping into my mind. Like birds chirping….and the morning breeze through the window…

Okay, so the sounds were more like cars honking and people slamming their front doors. Even though I didn't know how I could hear that, seeing that the closest house to this one was like a block away.

Pulling the covers tighter to my body, I tried to block the stupid sounds and go to sleep again.

"Good morning, _querida_."

On the other hand, waking up might be better.

I felt a kiss being dropped on my bare shoulder. Smiling, I shifted my body so that I could turn to look at the gorgeous man lying beside me. It wasn't so hard to open your eyes when there's a pair of deep brown eyes looking at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world.

Coming from a girl who's only had one serious relationship before this, you know I'm telling the truth.

"Morning, Jesse."

I really should think of a nickname for him. I mean, he calls me that, which I know means 'sweetheart' or 'beloved' (see why I love him?), but I don't call him anything except Jesse. I really should think of some sexy-sounding nickname that he doesn't understand…maybe in French!

And this was a moment where I wished that I had paid more attention in French Class at high school. Oh well, there's always the dictionary. Not as authentic as it would have been if I had thought of it myself, but anything goes.

"What are you thinking?" Jesse asked, pushing a strand of my hair back from my face.

"Oh, nothing in particular," I lied. "What time is it?"

"8.15." His fingers were dancing on my back.

8.15….8.15!

"Jesse, I have to go to work! I have to punch in before 9!" I said, a little panicky. I have every reason to be, seeing that I only have about 45 minutes to drive back home, take a shower, choose an outfit, blow dry my hair, put on makeup and drive to work! Even an hour usually isn't enough!

I started to sit up, but Jesse held me close. "Can't you stay a little longer? You said you've settled that Levington case, what could be so urgent at the office?"

I groaned, torn between doing what was right and what was pleasurable. "You know I can't…besides, aren't you going to work too?"

Jesse grinned. "I have the afternoon shift. 2pm until midnight."

"Lucky you," I grumbled.

Then I started to sit up again, but Jesse pulled me back onto him and started kissing me. This is so not fair! He knew that I couldn't say no to this…

So we were kissing and his hands were going places that should not be mentioned and my will to go to work was basically almost none, when the most unexpected thing happened.

I heard a woman's voice coming from downstairs.

At first it didn't registered to me. Maybe I put that voice as belonging to the neighbors, or the newspaperman, I mean, newspaperwoman, or somebody else. It wasn't until that person called out again that I knew it was for real.

"Jesse!" The voice called out.

What the heck? I pulled away, looking at Jesse's confused face, which promptly turned to horror.

"That's my mother," he whispered.

GOD DAMN IT!

"What is she _doing_ here?" I whispered, feeling panicky again. But this was nowhere near the panic I experienced relating to work. That ranked about 5.0 on the Richter scale. _This_ was like a full-blown tsunami panic attack.

"I have no idea!" Jesse whispered back as I scrambled to sit up from him, and he too sat up.

Something was nagging at me…something I couldn't put my finger on...

His mom called out again, only in Spanish words which I obviously don't understand at all. Jesse answered back in his native language.

"I better go and see what she wants. Stay here," he said, getting off the bed and putting on his pants.

It's not like I have anywhere else to go, I wanted to say. Well, there's the window but…

Oh My God!

"Jesse, myskirtinthekitchen!" I hissed, my heart racing like crazy, feeling like it might burst any second now.

"What did you say?" He was putting on his shirt.

"My skirt! In the kitchen!" I could barely get the words out of my mouth, I was so scared.

He turned to look at me for a second and I swear all the blood drained from his face. Then he motioned for me to be quiet, and left the room.

Oh God. Oh God. I'm dead. No, I'm not dead, _he's_ dead.

Why am I so _stupid_ to leave that skirt in the kitchen?

Then again, why would she come here at this ungodly hour? Doesn't she have her other children to feed? Her husband?

I'm being a mean biatch, I know. But can you blame me? It's bad enough that we had to sneak around, but to get surprises like this was just too much. Why couldn't I fall in love with a guy whose parents would at least _like_ me?

Thank God I had parked my car at the street, and not on his driveway. Or else we would have been dead for real. Although I don't think she recognizes my car…

Argh. Whatever.

I slowly got off the bed and looked around for my clothes. Of course, there weren't much, since my skirt was missing. I wondered if I have to borrow one of Jesse's pants and sneak out of the window. It's not like I haven't climbed down from the second floor before. Although there _is_ a tree at my house, which made it easier, plus the roof…

Jesse came back into the room, my skirt balled up in his hand. "I'm sorry, Susannah. It's not completely dry yet..."

"Did she found out? What did she say?" I asked, dread creeping in my stomach again.

"No, she didn't. She was on the way to the market, and thought she should drop by to ask me whether I can come to dinner tonight. She has left though," he explained.

"Can't she just _call_ you?" I put on my damp, wrinkly skirt. No time to think about my image.

"She's not too fond of the telephone…I don't know why. Besides, in my hometown, we used to drop by each other's houses without informing beforehand. She's still used to that, I guess." Jesse sighed and sat down at the edge of the bed.

"And she used the key that was on the lamp," I stated rather than asked, knowing the answer already. Darn it, I should have taken the key inside with me.

"Yes. Susannah…you don't have to go. She's gone," Jesse said, but his tone indicated that he knew I wasn't going to stay.

I shook my head. "Sorry, Jesse, I really have to go to work." Then I went out of the room.

As I was walking down the stairs, it took me a moment to realize that I was angry. Angry at Jesse's mom for being so interfering, angry at Jesse for making me fall in love with him, and angry at myself for not being good enough for him in his parents' eyes.

I knew it wasn't his fault that his parents are a bunch of old nitpicks, yet I couldn't help but think that he could have stood his ground a little harder. But it wasn't his fault. It was not. I was wrong to even _think_ that way.

Taking my purse from under the coffee table (forgot about this, luckily she didn't see it), I made my way to the front door when Jesse called out to me. He was coming down the stairs, looking upset.

"Susannah. Please don't be angry. I know that this isn't the best way to be in a relationship, but I promise to you that I will work it out with my parents. They'll see that you're the one for me, and they'll just have to accept that." He took one of my hands in his, his eyes full of concern.

And when might that be? That was the first thing that popped into my head but I quickly dismissed it. He had gotten enough grief without me pressuring him.

Instead, I answered with an "I know", kissed him goodbye and walked out of the front door.

I didn't know why, and it didn't make any sense, but I had a feeling that it would be the last time I would ever walk out of those doors again.


	4. Fear

We're still with Suze in this chapter, and a few things happen. One of them is we get to meet her adversary, 'the other woman'.

Special thanks to Lolly for her creative suggestions for Suze's nickname for Jesse! (I like the phone booth one, hehe). And also thanks to Steph for her help with names of places.

Read and review!

And remember, strawberries are great.

* * *

_**Suze**_

I arrived at the office 15 minutes late.

Luckily my boss wasn't there to see me punch in my card, but to be honest I didn't think he would mind much. This was the first time that I've come in late this year and besides, I'm a good worker. I haven't even used up my holidays.

Well, at least my hair and makeup were perfect. When you're meeting your clients, at the end of the day that's all that matters.

I was making my way to my desk when Oliver, one of my co-workers called out to me.

"Hey, Oliver," I greeted him.

"Hello Suze. Here's the file from the Grant case, Fiona said you were looking for it. She just left to go to the courts, and asked me to give it to you." He handed me the file.

I smiled at Oliver and said, "Thanks."

Then I continued my way to my desk. As I sat down and placed my handbag on the floor, I sensed Oliver still looking at me. I looked at him and smiled, and he smiled back, but then immediately looked down to his desk and started shuffling some papers.

I used to feel uncomfortable about his obvious crush on me, but now I just think it was cute. Especially since he doesn't have the guts to ask me out yet. But it wasn't that I want to anyway, I didn't think it would be a good feeling to have to turn him down.

Opening the file, I started reading it before I realized that I needed my daily dose of caffeine. I grabbed my mug and walked down the hallway to the staff's kitchen, greeting some of my co-workers who were there. I walked up to the coffee machine and poured the coffee. Then I walked to the cabinet and took out the packets of sugar.

For some reason, my mind wandered back to Oliver. I wondered whether I would be more receptive to him if Jesse and I weren't together. To be honest, Oliver is a pretty decent guy. He's kind, cute in this boyish kinda way and cares about the people that he deals with in his job. I realized that he has to, considering that he works with troubled kids most of the time and I admired that quality in him. Not many men are willing to be in a job that emphasizes on people's welfare rather than on money.

Which is why I'm glad that _my_ man is a doctor, and fits the aforementioned description.

Thinking about Jesse made me feel a little uncomfortable though, remembering the incident at his place this morning, and so I pushed them away.

After I got my coffee, I walked back to my desk and started to rifle through the files for my cases. Not 5 minutes after that, the phone rang and I answered.

"Don't forget our date today!" It was CeeCee.

"Hey Cee. What date?" I cradled the phone and reached for my pen while holding the file open at the same time.

I heard her sigh through the line. "Our lunch date where you're also going for the dress fitting appointment."

The phone almost slipped. Oh. Yeah. Darn, how the heck could I have forgotten that? "Of course! I was just kidding, of course I remember!"

She didn't believe me anymore than I believed myself. "Sure, Suze. I don't care what you say, you're not escaping this time."

"I wasn't trying to escape," I defended myself. "I was just busy with the Levington case, which for your information, has been settled in our favor. And I would _love_ to go to the dress fitting thing."

"Good. So you can't say you've forgotten about it this time like you did at the last appointment," she continued.

I grimaced inwardly at the unpleasant memory. I had totally forgotten about our appointment last week when the court schedule for my appearance was changed at the last minute, and so Cee was left stranded trying to explain to the tailor about my absence.

"I won't forget this time. Don't worry, I'll be at the shop even before you get there!" I tried to reassure her.

I heard her sigh again, but she didn't sound as annoyed as before. "Fine. 1.30 at Frells' okay?."

"Duly noted," I wrote the time and place in capital letters on my notepad.

There was a pause, then Cee's excited voice rang out, "I can't wait until you see the dress! It's so pretty, I think it's even prettier than mine."

"Well, I sure hope so, don't want you to take away my spotlight," I joked. Then I said more seriously, "Cee, there's no way my dress could be prettier than yours. I've seen it, remember, and it's gorgeous."

She giggled, sounding quite un-CeeCee. "I know! I can't wait until he sees it…"

"In due time, my friend. In due time," I laughed, then realized that some of my colleagues were looking at me. I quickly said goodbye to Cee and we hung up.

My mood improved tremendously after that. Sure, I was doing something that I wasn't particularly fond of but Cee was my best friend and if she wanted me to be her maid-of-honour on her wedding day, I wasn't going to object.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

At 1.15 I sorted my files and documents into their piles before heading out for the appointment. I bumped into Fiona who asked if I received the file she left behind, and I told her that I did.

"Oliver was very happy when I gave him the file because he had an excuse to talk to you," she teased me.

"Oh shush, I'm sure he wasn't," I said, unfortunately starting to blush. Fiona noticed it and chose to tease me even further.

"Really, I don't know what's wrong with you. He's a great guy, and he obviously likes you. You're both single and available, there's nothing wrong with getting to know each other as more than friends," she went on.

See, that was the problem. I _wasn't _single, but neither Fiona nor Oliver nor anyone else in my office knew that. And it wasn't something I could just say to them, for all I know one of them is a friend of the De Silva's and then next thing I know it'll be goodbye to Jesse. Again. So I had to come up with another excuse for the reason why I couldn't go out with Oliver.

Shaking my head, I continued walking down the hallway towards the lifts. "We've gone through this, Fi and like I've said before, I'm not into office relationships. It has so much potential to backfire and then I'm going to be the one who's screwed. Not you."

She was still standing in the middle of the hallway but she held up her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. No office romance. Such a shame, I think you two would make such a cute couple."

I punched the button to the lift and turned to look at her. "If you think he's so great, why don't _you_ date him?

She snickered and pointed at her ring finger on her left hand. "See this rock here? I happen to like where it is now. I'd like to keep it, along with the man who gave it to me, in case you were wondering."

I rolled my eyes and said boredly, "I wasn't." Then I smiled at her as the lift opened and we waved goodbye.

I wondered what kind of engagement ring would Jesse choose for me, then admonished myself for thinking of that. It wasn't like I was anticipating marriage and kids, but seeing all my friends having one feet on the altar sometimes made me question my own relationship.

Never mind, I told myself. One step at a time.

- 0 - 0 - 0 -

I arrived at the shop at 1.40 after wasting about 5 minutes driving around looking for a parking space. The door jingled as I opened it, and I was immediately greeted by a waft of flowery scent and rows of wedding dresses.

A pleasant-looking woman in a well-cut outfit and expertly applied makeup walked over to me as I entered the shop. "Can I help you, miss? Looking for a dress for your special day?"

Before I could reply in the negative, Cee Cee walked out from the backroom. "Suze! Thank God you're here, I thought I had to explain your absence again."

I grinned and gave her a hug as she reached my side. "Of course not, I told you I would be here."

"Thanks, Eleanor, we'll just go to the fitting now." Cee said to the woman. "I'm sure you remember Suze?"

"Oh yes, I'm sorry I didn't recognize you," Eleanor said apologetically and I realized that I didn't recognize her either; from the last time I came to the shop to help Cee pick her dress. So I told Eleanor it was okay and followed Cee to the backroom.

The tailor I did recognize, an enthusiastic woman by the name of Annette. She was fixing a pastel blue dress onto a mannequin, and looked up as I walked in.

"Suze, how nice to see you again!" She came over and shook my hand.

"I'm sorry about the last appointment, I was –" I tried to explain, but she cut me off.

"Forget about it, what matters is that you're here." Then she bustled to a bundle of sheets that were draped across a large table. "Let me show you a sample of the dress you'll be wearing."

"It's pretty, I'm telling you," Cee grinned at me, looking excited. I had to admit, her excitement was rubbing off on me and I could feel myself impatiently waiting for Annette to show me the dress.

Finally she pulled up the dress from the pile of sheets and held it up for me to see. For a moment I couldn't speak.

The dress was made of a satiny material, coral-coloured, looking soft and sleek under the room lights. It had off-the-shoulders straps, and the back flowed down beautifully with a little fishtail hem.

When I could finally speak, I said quietly, "It's not pretty." I could hear Annette gasp but I continued on, "It's beautiful!"

Both of them laughed, Annette looking relieved and Cee exclaiming, "Didn't I tell you?"

I laughed too, then turned to Cee Cee. "Cee, you must let me pay for it. I can't let you pay for that dress if I'm going to wear it. You've already have to pay for all the expenses –"

Cee was having none of it. "It's my wedding, and if I say I'm paying for it then I'm paying for it. Besides, when did the maid-of-honour ever have to pay for her dress?"

I wanted to protest some more, but Annette came over and dragged me to the changing room. "You can leave your clothes there, Suze, while we're doing the fitting."

So I took off my clothes save for my undergarments and walked back out to the room where Annette immediately covered me with the soft satiny material for the dress. It was SO soft, like water. I don't think I could ever wear it again after Cee's wedding, unless by any chance I'm invited to the Oscars or something.

Cee and I talked about our jobs while Annette stuck pins and all that onto the cloth. Then she said she was going to get more pins and walked out of the room to her office.

Seeing that we were alone, Cee seized her chance. "So are you bringing Jesse?"

Cee was the only person to know about Jesse and I – other than Dylan, apparently – because she saw with her own eyes the two of us making up at her office party a couple of months back. She was happy about it, but no so happy about us keeping it a secret.

I hesitated, not really sure of the answer myself. "I'm not sure."

"But he's your boyfriend! Wouldn't he be offended if you didn't invite him?"

I sighed, suddenly wishing I could sit down. But Annette specifically told me not to move and so I had to stand there like a statue even though my feet were starting to ache.

"I know. But…you know how things are. We're still in hiding, so to say, and going to your wedding will be like announcing our relationship to the whole of San Francisco."

"His parents still not relenting?" Cee asked sympathetically.

"We haven't really spoken about it…" I admitted reluctantly. Then I told her about what happened this morning. Cee became even more sympathetic, and I almost wished I didn't tell her. The least I wanted to do was make her worry, as she already has to worry about her wedding.

We sat – well, Cee sat, and I stood - quietly for a while, before Cee said in a reassuring tone, "The wedding is a month away By the time it arrives, maybe his parents would have changed their minds. Anything could happen between now and then."

I wished I could say I believed her, but I didn't. Deep in my heart I couldn't believe that what she said could actually be true. But I didn't want to worry her, so I nodded my head in agreement.

After the fitting session, Cee and I went to have lunch at one of the Italian restaurants near the shop. We talked about the upcoming wedding, and Cee told me that everything was going as planned but it still didn't lessen her nerves.

"Adam doesn't even look like he's going to get married soon! He still go off with his friends and hang out at the video games store," she complained.

"But doesn't he work there?" I asked, confused.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but he doesn't have to be there as much as he does. Besides, that's not the point. The point is he should be worrying about the wedding as much as I am."

I laughed a little. "Cee, he's the _manager_. Of course he has to be there more than his employees. And I'm sure he worries just as much as you, but he's a guy. I think it's the Man-Code to not let anyone know that you're worried – a macho thing."

She sighed. "I'm sure you're right." Then she cracked a smile, and I knew she was okay.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

After lunch I went back to the office and did my paperwork for the current cases that I'm handling. This was the part of my job that I dislike the most, to be honest. I would rather go out there and meet the kids and start looking for places for them to stay – something practical. But I know that without the necessary paperwork nothing could be done.

At about 5.30 I decided I've had enough work done, and started to pack up. It was then that I suddenly became aware of Oliver standing right in front of my desk. I looked up, startled.

"Hi Suze," he said cheerfully.

"Hi Oliver," I replied, feeling a little weirded out.

"So…you're heading back home?"

I nodded. "Yeah. You too?"

"Well…" he hesitated. I stopped putting my files in my bag and looked at him. He looked nervous.

Aw, CRAP. I think I know what's coming.

"I was wondering if you have any plans for tonight? I was thinking maybe we could go…and have dinner? My treat," he finally said, smiling his cute smile, although nervously.

I smiled kindly at him (or so I tell myself) while at the same time trying to think of the nicest way to turn him down. I knew that if I said I was busy that night, he'll try to invite me some other time, and it was like giving him false hope. I didn't think it was right.

The best way I could do was to come out clean and say…that I wasn't interested? He's going to think that he's not a great guy even though he is. Office romance no-no? Kinda lame, if I think of other people who have actually made it work. So I think I had to tell him the truth.

"Oliver, I'm really sorry but…I'm actually seeing someone right now," I said quietly to him, while trying to continue smiling kindly (I don't even know if that actually works. Once I tried that smile with Fiona and she said I looked like I was planning something evil in my head. Which I was not).

His face fell – not literally, duh – and he stammered for something to say. Darn, I feel really, REALLY bad for him. I almost wish I could hook him up with some of my friends, but Cee is unavailable and Gina is in NY and she's not into long-distance relationship as far as I know.

"That's…that's alright then. I'm sorry for asking, that was silly of me. Of course you're seeing someone…"he trailed off, looking very embarrassed now.

"No, no, that wasn't silly. That was actually very sweet," I told him and I meant every word. "Maybe we can go out as friends some other time? With the others?"

He nodded quickly, looking like he wanted to bolt out of there as fast as he could. I didn't really blame him. "Sure, we could do that. I'm sorry again. It was just…Fiona said you weren't seeing anyone and I never see you with anyone – never mind. I shouldn't have assumed."

That Fiona! I should have known. "Oh. Well, he's working outstation, that's why no one ever get to see him," I lied.

"Nope, you don't have to explain. It was entirely my fault. I should be going now…have a nice weekend, Suze," he smiled shortly, then hurriedly walked away without waiting for my answer.

I stared after him until he disappeared down the hall to the lifts. Then I slowly continued to pack my stuff, allowing enough time for him to go down the lift and wallow in his misery. Poor guy. I know what it was like to be rejected, believe me.

I should have a word with that Fiona girl. Fancy going around telling guys to ask me out! So what if she thinks I'm single? She shouldn't have done that.

Sighing, I picked up my bag and walked out into the hall. While waiting for the lift, I had to admit that it wasn't her fault. She was only doing what she thought was best – hooking up two of her friends. It wasn't like she KNEW that I had Jesse.

But after this, there's a mighty good chance that she will, if Oliver thought it was fit to go after her for making him ask me out. She'll probably kill me for not telling her that I had a boyfriend.

I probably deserve it anyway.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

As I was driving back, I realized that I needed to buy some groceries. My fridge badly needed to be stocked. So I pulled over at the huge supermarket , Safeway, just a few blocks away from my apartment.

The coolness of the store was very calming. I picked up a basket and made my way to the dairy section.

I was looking at the cheese selection when I heard a familiar voice. I was about to turn and look at the source of the voice when I suddenly remembered whom it belonged to, and my heart inexplicably dropped.

No way. Not again!

"Susannah," the voice said, sounding a bit stiff.

I turned, plastering a smile on my face. "Hello, Mrs. De Silva."

And that's when I saw that she wasn't alone. Besides her was that chick I saw Jesse with at the party, looking as gorgeous as ever with her dark hair, tanned skin and hazel eyes. What was her name again? Oh yeah. _Theresa._

"I don't think you've both met. This is Theresa, a daughter of my friend. Theresa, this is Susannah," Jesse's mom said pleasantly.

Huh. Nice how she described Theresa as 'a daughter of my friend' and me with just 'Susannah'. It would probably give her a heart attack to say 'this is Susannah, my son's ex-girlfriend.'

"Hi," I said to Theresa, still with that smile on my face. She said hello and we shook hands. She seemed pleasant enough, but it still made me feel irritated that she's trying to sidle her way into Jesse's family by sucking up to his mom. And it looked like Mrs. De Silva was buying it.

"We were just shopping for some groceries…my daughters are all busy with their school and work, I'm very lucky to have Theresa here to help me," she continued in that pleasant-but-annoying tone.

Theresa had the grace to look embarrassed and said with a little accent on her perfect English, "It is nothing, I'm happy to help." She smiled at me.

Puh-lease. You're happy to help scrub her toilet too, if it makes you closer to Jesse, who is by the way, MY guy!

Okay, I was being mean. I shouldn't be mean. Who cares if Theresa wanted to be close with his mom, all I needed to know was that I was the one Jesse loves. And nothing can change that.

Right?

"I'm just buying groceries too," I managed to reply in an almost equally pleasant tone. My face was hurting from smiling fakely too much.

"Well. I think we'll just go on our way now. Nice meeting you again, Susannah," Jesse's mom smiled and went on her way. Theresa followed like a nice puppy dog.

Ugh. I rolled my eyes and went back to looking at the cheese. I didn't know why that made me feel so bad, but I guess it just made me realize how unfit I was to be with his family. His mom even has a choice girlfriend for him and everything, no wonder I was worthless to them.

I had moved on to the vegetable section when I felt someone standing behind me. I turned around and saw her. Theresa.

"Um, hi?" I said, a little uncertain. "Did you want something?"

She smiled slowly, and it was then I realized that her good-girl thing with Mrs. De Silva was just an act. I knew it! She IS a bad person.

"Yes, Susannah. I do want something from you." She was staring daggers at me now, grinning that unnerving smile.

This was making me kinda nervous. I mean, I know kickboxing, but her stiletto heels looked lethal.

"You do?" I echoed her sentence.

"Yes, I do. I think you know what I'm talking about, Susannah. Or should I call you Suze? I think you prefer to be called that, don't you?" she continued.

Okay, this was freaking me out. Is she some psycho-killer? I was suddenly aware that both of us were the only people in the veggie section. Talk about a tense horror movie moment.

"Look, I seriously don't know what you're talking about, _Theresa_. Or do you want me to call you Terry, do you prefer that?" I couldn't keep the mocking tone out of my voice.

She stopped smiling, and took a few steps towards me. I instinctively stepped back a few steps, but without taking my eyes away from her. I didn't want her to think I was scared or anything, I just didn't want to stand anywhere near her.

"I'm talking about Jesse, Suze. _Jesse_. The man I know that you supposedly _love_. The man I know that you're currently seeing behind his parents' back!" she hissed at me.

I froze, feeling the blood drained from my face. Suddenly the coolness of the store was too much, and everything felt COLD. I could feel goosebumps on my arms and I had to tell myself not to shiver.

She couldn't know. How could she KNOW?

"I don't know what you're talking about. Jesse and I broke up a long time ago," I said, shaking my head, trying to cover my shaking voice.

"You two broke up…" she repeated, sounding like she didn't believe me at all. "And you two made up again, didn't you?"

Oh no…she must have seen us together at the party! DAMMIT.

Still, I didn't know why but I felt like I should continue denying. If I admitted it, there's no telling what she would do, who she would tell…

"No, we didn't," I lied fervently.

"Please, no games, Suze. He went back early from the party saying he had an emergency at the hospital, but I know that _you_ were one of the guests at the party. Don't tell me that him leaving early wasn't connected with you being there!" she spat.

Oh, so she _doesn't_ know for sure. She was just guessing. Well, I wasn't going to give in to her. She must be MAD, thinking that I would.

"You're right, I was at the party. But I went there to accompany my friend. I didn't see him! You're wasting your time asking me all this," I told her, keeping my voice calm.

Terry (it's going to be my name for her from now on) crossed her arms and stood there, looking like a model in her chiffon blouse and skirt. Wait, she _is_ a model. God. That made me hate her even more, her looking like that and can have any guy in the world, yet she still wanted to go after Jesse. My Jesse.

She still looked like she didn't believe me. "So are you telling me that the other times when he said he was busy with work even though he wasn't at the hospital, he wasn't actually with you?"

I stared at her, wishing I could punch her pretty little nose. "Yes. That's what I'm telling you."

"You're lying. I know you two are seeing each other. If you think I'm going to let you come in and take him away from me, you're wrong. I was there first, I should be the one with him!" she said resentfully, pointing her manicured finger at me.

Obsessed, much? I was about to reply when she changed her tone and smirked. "Besides, his family loves me, as I'm sure you've seen. I cannot say the same for you, can I?"

My hand itched to lay a big one on her, just to wipe that smirk off her face. I couldn't believe her audacity! If we were laying claims, I think it was safe to say that _I_ was there first, like fifteen YEARS ago. Was she there then? NO. _Bitch_.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. There wasn't going to be any good coming out of fighting with her, if I wanted her to believe that I was no longer with Jesse.

"If you think I'm lying, then I suggest you go and ask him yourself. I'm sure he would say the same thing. In the meantime, I have some shopping to do," I said and started to walk away.

"Your innocent act is not going to fool me, _Suze._ I know that you're lying, and if I ever found out about you and him, I'll be sure that his _father _will be the first to know," she called out.

I whipped around, feeling my blood boil. Threatening me? Who the HELL does she think she is? "If you think that I'm such a liar, why don't you go ahead and _prove_ it, Miss Know-It-All?"

Instead of looking insulted, she smiled; looking satisfied that she had managed to get a rise out of me. "Oh, don't worry, Suze, I will. I _will_."

I stared at her a few moments before turning around and walking away from her, clenching my fist, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. Ultimate Bitch Queen! Going around and threatening people, GOD. I wanted to _slap_ her so badly.

But I was glad that I didn't, that I managed to keep my cool. Well, until the end, at least, but that couldn't be helped. The way she was acting, anyone would lose their cool. It made me wonder how naïve Jesse's mom could be, for believing that Terry was so nice. So nice, my butt.

I stopped at the drink section and took a few breaths. Okay. So she doesn't know for sure. Which meant that Jesse and I was safe. But she also said that she would find a way to prove that I was lying, which meant that maybe we weren't so safe. Maybe we should lay low for a while…give her time to forget about it.

My other idea would be to let Jesse take her out in order to erase any suspicions, but that will happen over my dead body. It wasn't a sacrifice that I was willing to make, hell no.

I kept telling myself that I was the one with the upper hand, that she was the one who knew nothing. But as I recall back her words about Jesse's family, why did I feel like the one who was losing?


	5. False

Sorry this took such a long time! I apologize in advance.

Steph, hope you're happy -evil laugh-

Loves, Aina.

* * *

_**Jesse**_

It's such a shame that on a bright Saturday morning like today, I had to be stuck in the hospital treating patients. It appeared to be a nice day to be outside, maybe taking a walk around the park. The good thing was, my morning shift ends at noon, so I have about half a day to spend, and I have someone in mind to spend it with.

I didn't have time to call Susannah last night, as my shift only ended at around midnight, so I'm hoping that today we could have lunch or just spend some time alone. It didn't feel right, the way our last meeting ended yesterday morning, and I felt like I had to make it up to her somewhat.

I just wish I could have the guts to stand up to my parents and tell them about Susannah. But at the same time, I felt like the longer I kept our relationship a secret, the safer it will be. I didn't feel that it was time to talk with them about it yet.

"Ouch!"

The young lady I was treating looked angry as she glanced at her bloodied arm, before looking back at me. "Watch what you're doing, doctor!"

Now look what you've done, de Silva. "I'm sorry, I –"

She suddenly broke into a smile. "Nah, I was just kidding."

I gave her a look, and continued to clean her wound. But this time, I made sure I was concentrating instead of thinking about some other things.

"What's wrong? You look upset," she spoke again. What was her name? Oh yes. Stephanie Mellot. 22 years of age, university student. Sustained deep injuries on her left arm due to a biking incident.

"I'm fine," I replied shortly. I wasn't in the mood to talk.

She sighed, adjusting her brunette ponytail with her free hand. "No, you're not. And I'm guessing it must be…girl problem?"

I didn't even bother replying. I just threw the bloodied cotton cloth onto the metal pan and picked up the scissors and threads.

"Or…guy problem?"

"It's not a guy, okay?" I looked at her, making sure that she understood my meaning to drop the subject. Funny, she didn't look as harmless as she did when she first came into the hospital, now that I've seen – or rather, heard – what can come out of her mouth.

"Hah, I knew it! Must be a girl. Although, you can't blame me for thinking it could be a guy, God knows that every hot, smart guy in this city is either married, unavailable or gay. Girls like me are having a tough enough time to look for guys and the times when we _do_ find one – oww!" She glared at me, trying to shield her injured arm.

"Stop moving," I cautioned her, then continued stitching the cut. _Dios, _this patient can talk.

"Anyway, yeah, you can't blame me for trying my luck on any potential good guy I see. In fact, you should be flattered that I was interested in you. Everyone knows that my standard is very, very high," she said, looking a little smug.

Well, no wonder you cannot find any men, I wanted to say. But that would be over the line, so I finished the stitching and snipped off the thread.

"You can get the medication at the pharmacy," I said, handing her the prescription. "Keep the arm dry, and you can come back next week to take out the stitches."

"Okay." She hopped off the bed, looking nonchalant about the fact that she just received 8 stitches on her arm. Happens all the time during biking, she had said earlier. "By the way, do you know the other doctor, the tall, handsome one, with really black hair? Just wondering if he's available…?"

I hesitated, not sure if I should let Dylan go through the torture of being followed around by a lovestruck patient. Then again, I didn't want to lie either.

"I'm…not sure," I answered, taking off my surgical gloves and putting them onto the metal pan as well.

"Not sure which doctor I'm talking about or whether he's available?" She smiled mischievously at me.

"Both," I said, and swept the curtains open, waiting for her to pass first.

She shrugged, still smiling. "I'll take my chances." Then she walked down the hall to the pharmacy.

It never ceased to amaze me how many different kinds of people I could meet in a day's work. And all in one city.

I walked to the nurses' station and filled the report for Stephanie Mellot. Then, seeing as I didn't have any urgent cases, I walked over to the phone and started to dial Susannah's number. It was around 10.30 am, and I wasn't sure if she's at work or if she's off today, so I called her cell phone. It rang and rang and rang, until it reached her voice mail. I left a message, asking if she's free to have lunch today, and I hoped that she could call me back. Then I hung up.

Maybe she's at court today…although I was pretty sure that on Thursday she said that she has the weekend off. What could she be doing that she couldn't pick up her phone?

Probably something important, Jesse. Don't think too much about it.

"Man, what did you do?" Dylan was walking towards me, looking amused.

"What?" I asked, not sure what he was talking about.

"You told that Stephanie girl about me and now she's all over me, trying to get me to ask her to dinner," he continued, not looking particularly unhappy about it.

"I never said anything about you to her. She just…wanted to get to know you better," I said, trying to keep the smile off my face. "Did you ask her out?"

He shook his head, dropping off his files on the counter. "Nah. I already have plans with that girl I met at the pet shop the other day. I told you about her, right?"

Girl at the pet shop? "No, Dylan, you did not. I thought you're with the lady you met at the nightclub?"

"Club V. And she's anything but a lady. I mean, she could be, but she's just too busy practicing her moves on other men, if you get what I mean," Dylan said, raising his eyebrow.

I didn't really, but I figured that she was cheating on him, so I nodded. I was actually thinking if I should head to the locker room and check my cell phone, in case Susannah was trying to call me.

"So who were you calling?" he asked casually, but I could hear the curiosity in his voice.

"No one, just –" I cut myself off, as I saw a familiar figure in the distance, just entering through the main doors.

"Who?"

When I realized who the figure was, I wanted to laugh out loud. Saved from the inquiry. "Dylan, is that your Club V lady?"

He started to turn around, then decided against it. "No! Is it? Is it her?"

"Yes, it's her. And I think she spotted you," I told him. Well, it wasn't exactly the truth, but I had to make him leave. I didn't think I could answer any Susannah-related questions right now, even if he was my best friend. He still didn't know about the incident at my house yesterday.

Dylan looked panicked as he picked up some files at random and started to walk away, before backtracking and saying to me in a low voice, "If she asks you where I am, tell her that I've stopped working here. That's what I told her when we broke it off – why the hell is she here, I don't know!"

Then he quickly walked away, before I get the chance to say that maybe she was sick and just needed a doctor. I watched as she walked towards the reception, before sitting down at the rows of chairs in the waiting area. From the way she walked, I could tell that she had either hurt a muscle in her leg, or sprained her ankle.

But I figured that she's not my business, and I went off to see my other patients.

About 2 hours later, my shift was over and I went to the locker room to shower and change. I checked my cell phone, and there was a missed call from Susannah. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that at least she wasn't angry enough to not return my call. After dialing her number, I sat down on the long bench and waited for her to pick up.

"Hello?" Susannah's lovely voice came through the line.

"Susannah," I said warmly, although I felt a little surprised that she answered as if she didn't know that I was the one who was calling her. "Are you busy?"

"Jesse, hi. No, I'm not busy, I just finished watching a movie with Cee Cee. Sorry I didn't pick up your call earlier," she said, sounding a little distracted.

"No, that's alright. I just called to see if you can make it to lunch today? My shift just ended, and we could go to that café that's near my house, the one we always go to," I said, feeling a little uncomfortable inviting her, for some unexplained reason.

"Oh, Jesse…I'm sorry, but I promised Cee Cee that I'm going to have lunch with her. It's been a while since we've spent some time together," Susannah said, sounding distressed.

I could feel the disappointment weighing me down, but I kept my composure. I was sure it was about time Susannah meets her other friends too, not just me.

"That's not a problem, _querida._ Only thing is…" I lowered my voice, even though there wasn't anyone else in the locker room. "I had planned to go to Hotel Twenty after lunch, to meet with the Robert guy. Remember him? I figured we need to find out more about their connections with the YLN Corporations, and since you wanted me to include you in the investigation –"

"Sure, Jesse, I'll come with you," Susannah cut me off, leaving me feeling surprised again. She was not sounding like herself today. "What time are we supposed to be there?"

"The appointment's at 3 o'clock," I said, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. But she didn't seem to notice.

"Okay, I'll meet you in front of the Hotel at 3. Bye, Jesse," Then she hung up, even before I get to say goodbye in return.

I snapped my phone shut, feeling anxious. Maybe she was still angry about yesterday. She had never sounded so distracted before. It was as if she didn't want to talk to me.

You're just imagining things, I told myself. Maybe it's that time of the month…although I never used to think that has much effect on her.

I just hope she'll be like herself again when we meet later.

I ended up going back home, changing into more comfortable clothes and cooked some lunch. As I sat at the living room watching the news on the television, I decided to call Hotel Twenty again to confirm the appointment that I had made yesterday. It wasn't easy to get one, but luckily Robert Vishwartz – talk about a mouthful – would be free today and so I posed as a journalist looking to write an article on him in one of the business magazines. I would probably go to hell for lying so much, but like Susannah once said, if God didn't want us to lie, He shouldn't have made us mediators.

Sometimes, I think Susannah has taught me things that I never knew. And I meant that in the philosophical way, of course. Although physically…

The secretary confirmed my appointment, and so I watched television at home until it was around 2.30pm before leaving to go to the hotel.

I managed to get a parking space about half a block away from the hotel, which I thought would be fine especially if Susannah had parked nearer. I didn't see any sign of her outside the main entrance, so I decided to wait for her inside.

As I entered the cooling air-conditioned hall of the hotel, I saw that there weren't many guests waiting or even walking around the place. The hotel was decorated in clean, modern designs with black and white as the main colours, all of which added to the cold sensation it gave away. I looked around the hall, and saw a sight that made my heart warm up, like it always do whenever I see her.

Susannah turned around from the brochures section, and gave me a heart-stopping smile. She was wearing a blouse and some slacks, but I wasn't paying any attention to that. My eyes were focused only on her beautiful ones. I walked over to where she was standing, but we didn't exchange hugs or kisses, although I badly wanted to do so. But we've promised each other that there would be no displays of affections in public, in case anyone sees us together. It was probably the worst promise I've ever made.

"Hey, Jesse," Susannah said, sounding quite normal now.

"Susannah. Have you been waiting for a long time?" I asked, making sure to sound quite impersonal, which was extremely hard to do.

"Not really, just about 5 minutes or so. Anyway, shall we…?" She gestured to the reception counter, and I had that unsettled feeling again, like she was trying to quickly go through this so that she could leave. I ignored that feeling though, and we walked towards the counter instead.

"Can I help you?" asked the man standing behind it, smiling towards Susannah instead of me. I felt a little annoyed at the way he was eyeing her, but kept it in, deciding to say, "Yes. We're from _Business Today_, and we have a 3 o'clock appointment with Mr. Vishwartz."

The man said, "Hold on, please," and picked up the phone, presumably calling the office of Robert Vishwartz. After a short conversation, he hung up and looked at us – well, actually, to Susannah.

"Your appointment is confirmed. We'll have someone to lead you to the office." He hit the bell on the counter and a bellboy promptly arrived beside us. The receptionist told him where to take us, and we followed him.

I was aware of Susannah walking besides me, but neither of us said anything. It seemed as if we have adopted the persona of two working professionals on a job. It felt a little strange, and I wondered if she felt the same way.

"This place doesn't even look like a hotel," whispered Susannah suddenly. I glanced at her, noting that the bellboy was ahead of us. She continued, "It looks like an art gallery or something. I wonder how their rooms look like."

"It's supposed to have modern and new designs," I said. I looked over at her again as she stared at the white elevators, and I felt a little relieved that she was at least attempting to talk to me. I had been a little worried that she was giving me the cold shoulder.

I have to still talk to her about yesterday though, however hard it would be.

We entered the elevators and ascended to the 9th floor, where the offices were. The bellboy led us to another reception hall, and with a nod, left us there. The office was warmer in here; there were colours of yellow and light orange around the room, as well as some paintings on the wall, which improved its appearance.

I walked up towards the counter and thankfully, it was a lady who was attending. I didn't think I could stand another man looking at Susannah the way the other man had done.

"We're here for the 3 o'clock appointment with Mr. Vishwartz," I said, and she looked up at both us blankly, before picking up the phone and asking us to sit down at the couches. We did, and I was just about to say something – anything – to Susannah, when a woman who looked to be in her 40s, in a red pantsuit walked out of one of the offices towards the office entrance. She paused as she saw us there.

"Are you waiting for someone?" she asked, a slight New Yorker drawl on her voice.

I glanced at Susannah, who didn't look like she wanted to talk to the woman, and I decided to answer. "We're waiting for Mr. Vishwartz, we have an appointment with him."

The woman's suspicious look disappeared, and she smiled. "Really? Is this about the booking of the ballroom for this weekend? For the reunion dinner?"

I shook my head. "No, actually we're here to do an interview for _Business Today. _We're profiling on Mr. Vishwartz for this month."

She seemed impressed. "Oh, I see. Well, good luck with that, I know that Robert is a very private person. No one seems to know much about him," she said, laughing a little. "By the way, I'm Clara Jones, the Vice President of Hotel Twenty." She held out her hand and we shook it, although Susannah still had the dislike look on her face. I introduced ourselves, and Clara Jones nodded.

"I should be going, I have an appointment too. Nice meeting both of you," she said, before turning to walk to the elevators.

When she was out of our sight, Susannah spoke in a low voice. "I don't like her. She's too nice to a couple of journalists...she should be worried that we're going to talk bad stuff about the hotel."

I looked at Susannah, a little surprised that she was judging a person that she had just met. "I'm sure it was nothing…maybe she's like that to everyone," I tried to reassure her.

Before she could reply, the receptionist said we could go in Robert's office. So we made our way into the outer office, meeting Robert's secretary who led us to his office further inside.

The inner office, belonging to Robert, was clean and uncluttered, just like the man sitting behind the desk. He was supposed to be in his mid-fifties, but he looked much younger. His tanned skin looked healthy, his hair only had sprinkles of grey and the double-breasted suit rested nicely on his shoulders. It was his eyes though, that looked like they were carrying a heavy burden.

"Come in, come in. Thank you, Alice. Bring some coffee for the guests, please," he said, standing up and walking around the desk towards us. Susannah and I introduced ourselves, and the three of us sat down at the sofa set just beside the door.

"Well, I have to admit, I didn't think that you two would be so young! I guess nowadays you don't have to work for very long in a company, as long as you have the qualifications, you can move up," he said, grinning at us. "So, you're interviewing me on my success, is it?"

Susannah and I looked at each other, and we knew it was time to drop the act. She gestured for me to start though, so I did.

"Actually, Mr. Vishwartz –"

"Just call me Robert," he replied pleasantly.

"Okay, Robert," I said slowly, thinking of a way to tell him the reason why we were there without making him call security and have us thrown out of the building. "Actually, we're not here to do an interview. We're actually here on another matter."

Immediately, all the humour left Robert's face, and he looked confused, then angry. "What do you mean? Wait, are you from YLN Corporation? Are you spying for them?"

There was a knock on the door, and Alice the secretary entered, bringing a tray of coffee and biscuits. We watched as she set up everything, before walking out of the room.

Then Susannah spoke up. "No, we're not, although we _are_ here because of YLN Corp. See, your friend and business partner, Darren Murphy, had actually hired us to look into the dealings between YLN and other hotels in this area. That's what we've been doing, until he passed away…and now your other partner, Steven Stanley is also in the hospital. We suspect that there is some foul play."

Wow. Susannah can sure tell a story when she wanted to. I was impressed.

Poor Robert looked confused again. "Hired you? But…are you with the police?"

"No, we're private investigators. We prefer to keep our company name confidential though, so that it's hard for our competitors to trace our clients," Susannah continued on, looking like she _was_ a private investigator. She could even fool me.

Robert shook his head slowly, trying to digest what we – or rather, Susannah – were telling him. Then he stood up and walked towards the desk, before whirling around. "So what exactly do you want with me?"

I decided it was my turn to talk, so I said, "We just wanted to know if you noticed anything suspicious regarding Darren's death and Steven's hospitalization. We know that the YLN Corporation wanted you to sell Hotel Twenty to them, and the three of you didn't do it. So now, it is possible that they're doing whatever it takes to make sure that this hotel belongs to them. Even if it means getting rid of the obstacles in their path."

"You mean…" Robert's face paled. "No, they wouldn't do that. It's murder!"

Susannah laughed shortly. "You'll be surprised what people would do for the pettiest things. Although I wouldn't call owning the whole hotel industry in this area as petty. Murder may be the last resort, but it's not impossible. And from what we see, you're next in line."

He stared at each of us in turns, looking shocked. "No, that's impossible. No…Darren died of an accident, and Steven had a heart attack. There's nothing murderous about any of that!"

"I wouldn't call food poisoning as an accident, Robert," I voiced out.

"Well, it is if he's eating blowfish," he said defensively.

Blowfish? As in blowfish that are naturally poisonous? Susannah seemed to mentally ask me, and I felt a little lost. Damn it. I should have asked Darren what he actually died from.

"But in restaurants, they would have cleaned the fish, making sure that the poison wouldn't be there when they serve the dishes," I tried to argue. "Someone could have put it in instead."

Robert shook his head. "Didn't you read the news? The restaurant apologized for the mistake; apparently one of the employees didn't clean up the fish properly. He was fired, and the restaurant paid some settlements towards Darren's family."

This was all going horribly wrong. Even Susannah didn't seem to know what to say.

"What about Steven?" I asked, a little desperately. I didn't know why, but I actually wanted for Darren to be right about this whole thing. I didn't want to think that we went all this way and wasted our time. "He was very healthy, wasn't he? Suddenly he gets a heart attack, don't you think it's a little suspicious?"

Robert walked around his huge desk and sat down heavily on the chair behind it. "I call it…life, Mr. de Silva. Sometimes, you could be as healthy as you think you are, and the next moment, boom! Your life is over. It happens. As much as I want to think that somebody did something terrible to Steven, I know that at our age, anything, any disease can strike."

I quickly rearranged my thoughts, deciding to take another approach. But Susannah spoke first. "But even so, shouldn't you be more careful? Better safe than sorry, and all that? Just because what happened to your friends look natural, doesn't mean that they are."

He leaned over his desk and fixed us both a hard look. "Are you implying that I should sell Hotel Twenty to YLN, as a way to be _safe, _Ms. Simon? Because if you are, then I'm sorry that you think that way. I am _not_ going to sell this hotel, a hotel that Darren, Steven and I have built from scratch, that we've sacrificed our time and effort for, that is actually doing quite well, despite YLN's monopoly in the industry and I'm definitely not selling it to some corporation that is headed by a 19-year-old so-called genius who knows _nothing_ about business!"

Silence resonated around the room. Susannah and I looked at each other, obviously knowing that we've reached a dead end.

Still, I decided to try one last time before we leave. "Robert, we don't mean any disrespect. We know the hard work you, Darren and Steven had put in for this hotel. But…is Hotel Twenty worth more than your life?"

He seemed to actually think about that, but he didn't look like he would change his mind. "I appreciate both of your concern, but I do think that all of this has nothing to do with YLN's conspiracy against us. It's business…sometimes they get some, sometimes they lose some. They should know that we're standing our grounds, no matter what. As for my life…well, I've lived long enough. If it's my time to go, then I'll go. But until then, Hotel Twenty belongs to us."

That was it, then. There was no point in staying and trying to change his mind, Robert was determined in his decision. So I left him my number, just in case of anything – even though Robert didn't seem to want it – and Susannah and I left the office.

In the elevator on the way down, Susannah worded the thoughts that have been circling my mind. "What if Robert is right? That none of this had anything to do with YLN? Maybe Darren had some other unfinished business, about his family or something. I mean, it did seem like there wasn't proof of any crime."

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. A habit stemmed from frustration. "_Querida, _I want to think that, but somehow…something still feels wrong. Darren was so convinced when he spoke to me the other day, I felt persuaded to believe him."

The elevator stopped at ground floor, and we walked out. Just before we reached the main hall though, I reached out and grasped Susannah's arm. She looked at me, surprisingly, not looking surprised at all. I let go of her arm.

"Do you have plans tonight? I really think we should talk about what happened yesterday morning, maybe over dinner?" I said quietly, hoping that she'll say yes.

She sighed and looked around us at the empty hallway. Then she rests her emerald eyes on mine, and said apologetically, "Actually Jesse, I'm planning to go back home today. To my mom's place, I mean. Just staying over for a night, and I'm coming back tomorrow."

I felt disappointment for the second time today, and struggled not to question her on her strange behaviour. Suddenly I felt that feeling again, the one where it seemed like she was trying to get away from me.

"Your mother's home in Carmel?" I asked, my voice calm, not betraying my emotions.

She nodded, her soft hair shining under the light. I longed to touch her, but I knew it was risky. That was when I suddenly hated having to keep this relationship a secret, having to conceal our feelings for each other. It wasn't fair to Susannah, and it wasn't fair to me.

"I just…needed to get away for a while. I haven't gone home in, I don't know, a few months? David's birthday's coming up, so I guess I should go home and wish him an early birthday wish," she said, smiling a little.

I nodded in agreement, even though I was thinking on the fact that she didn't even plan to go back yesterday, or she would have told me. I think. I wasn't even sure what she would tell me or what she wouldn't, anymore.

"Alright, _querida. _Just call me when you get back here tomorrow. And drive safely," I told her, acting like nothing unusual was happening.

Susannah smiled, glanced around the hallway to make sure it was still empty, planted a kiss on my lips, and turned to go. She waved a little, and I gestured with my hand, before she disappeared around the corner.

I stood there uncertainly, not really believing what just happened. We've been looking forward to this weekend to spend some time together, and now she had decided to go home? I didn't understand any of it. Not the part about going home, but the part where she suddenly made that decision, without even telling me.

Apparently Darren, Steven and Robert are not the only ones I should be worried about right now.


	6. Former

This chapter is pretty long and descriptive, but I promise things will pick up at the end.

Only about a month and a half since I last updated. Go me:)

Read and review, please?

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_**Suze**_

Today has been a very tiring day. And yet I'm still driving, heading home to Carmel and hopefully able to find some answers to my questions.

I feel bad about the way I left Jesse. I could see that he had no idea what was going on with me, but I couldn't tell him. He must have thought that I was avoiding him. Maybe I was. Maybe I was just trying to convince myself that there are other things in life that are more important than a doomed relationship.

I don't really know what I think.

It all started this morning with Cee Cee asking me out to breakfast, during which I told her about yesterday. The morning event with Jesse's mom, and the night event, also with Jesse's mom. Plus, that annoying Terry girl, who in my opinion, should just mind her own freaking business.

Cee was very sympathetic. And because of who she is, being sympathetic isn't enough. She must launch into action, 'counteracting the enemy', as she called it.

Which was why we spent the whole morning following Terry.

Yes, we followed her. Actually, it was more like stalking her, since we found out where she lived (Cee called Terry's modeling agency, pretending to be Terry's new PR agent) and then we followed her to the gym, to her agency, to a restaurant where she had lunch and then back to the agency. We couldn't follow her after that since I had to meet Jesse at Hotel Twenty, but Cee said she'll continue on with the stalking.

It was silly, I know. The whole time when we were following her, I felt nervous just in case someone noticed, but no one did. Cee just acted like it was nothing new. She said she followed people all the time, in order to get the juice news for her column.

It all ended up with nothing, though. Terry didn't exhibit any suspicious behaviour, or dealt with any suspicious people. I was secretly disappointed, because I did wish that we would catch her in another guy's arms, take her pictures and maybe drop them into Jesse's parents' house. That'll show them what kind of a girl she was.

But other than smooching with some other models and exercising like mad at the treadmill, she was almost…ordinary. She didn't even look as mean as she did last night. Which was way annoying, because it made me feel like I was exaggerating the incident at the supermarket. Cee was more positive though, she said you can't tell who someone is just by watching them for half a day. But I gave up. I told her I didn't want to follow Terry anymore, even though I didn't know what to do with the whole Jesse situation.

So Cee Cee asked the most obvious question ever, 'Why don't you ask your mom?"

I laughed at that. Ask my mom about my love life? But later I realized that I _could_ talk to my mom about it. She doesn't know about my mediating abilities, but after my first relationship ended up in the dumps, my mom was the one who comforted me. So I guess she should know something.

Which lead to me going back to Carmel.

It wasn't an easy drive though. My stomach felt sick whenever I remembered the look on Jesse's face when I told him I had to go back. He looked _so_ disappointed. I couldn't believe I even lied about David's birthday. I wanted so badly to reassure him that everything was okay, but how can I do that when I myself didn't know if everything _was_ okay?

The dashboard clock showed the time at 6.15pm as I turned to drive up Pine Crest Road. Seeing that old house again made me feel a little better. It had a lot of great memories, I must admit that. I hated moving from New York at first, but after a while I got used to it. I met Father Dom at school, along with Cee Cee and Adam. And then there were those sleepovers with Gina. Those days were fun. So simple and undemanding.

I missed those days.

I parked at the driveway, and picked up my bag before getting out of the car. I hoped my mom was home…that would really suck if I come back and no one's home. I walked up to the porch and rang the bell.

It was quiet, and I realized that I was expecting to hear Max barking, like he usually did when someone's at the door. But Max had died a couple of years ago due to old age, and that was a sad day in the Simon/Ackerman residence.

The door opened, and the towering figure of Andy, my stepdad emerged.

'Suze? Suze!' He exclaimed, disbelief on his face, but he looked delighted nonetheless. 'What are you doing here?'

I was just about to reply when he came out and gave me a hug. Yikes. He seemed to forget about my No Hugging Policy. Ah well, I'll let it slide for now. I patted him awkwardly on the back, and he released me.

'I'm just dropping by for the weekend,' I said with a shrug. 'Is that okay?'

'Of course! Come in. Let me take that for you,' Andy said, picking up my bag. He didn't have to actually, it wasn't heavy at all since I only filled it with my overnight stuff, but it was cool that he wanted to help anyway.

"Helen! Suze is here!' He hollered towards the back, before turning to me. 'We're having dinner, you're just in time!'

Dinner…yum. I didn't have lunch today, too busy stalking famous models.

The house still looked pretty much the same as the first time I walked into it about 6 years ago. The few notable differences were the absence of surfboards and video games of any kind, the result of Jake and Brad moving away to their own place. And David is away at Columbia, studying Biomedical Engineering.

Yeah, I don't know what that's about, either.

Andy went up the stairs to put my bag in my old room (I didn't know if they'd change it into a guest room or anything, I hoped not, but then again I could do away with the whole Pink Panther theme) and I made my way to the dining room, almost bumping into my mom who was coming out of it.

'Suzie!' She squealed, then hugged me. My mom was one of the few people in my life that I allowed exception to my NHP. The others being Gina, Cee Cee, occasionally Adam when he's not being immature, Father D when he allowed me, my best colleague Fiona and recently, Jesse.

But I mustn't think about him right now.

'Hey mom,' I said lightly, though I felt a little nostalgic. That's the thing about going back to your old house or meeting your parent(s), no matter how far you've traveled or how long you've been gone, you always feel like you just left.

'How are you? My, you're looking good. I love your blouse,' she gushed over my outfit as she held my arm and led me to the dining room, like I had forgotten where it was.

I let out a little laugh, thinking back to the days when she almost burned my torn jeans and leather jacket because I used to wear them everywhere. When I graduated from university, she made me promise that I wouldn't wear them to job interviews. Of course I wouldn't, mom, I replied, eye rolling and whatnot. Never did I imagine she would actually compliment me on my outfit.

But I still have the jeans and jacket. I don't know if I would still fit into them though.

Andy came down, and we settled in for our dinner. One thing that didn't change was Andy's cooking. It's still as great as I remembered.

They asked about my work and my life as an independent working girl. I told them as much as I could, but I noticed that neither of them had mentioned anything about my love life. Then I realized that they didn't know that Jesse and I had gotten back together. I had told my mom about our break up a few months back, and she was disappointed because she thought that Jesse was a great candidate for her only son-in-law, but she understood.

Maaan, I'm gonna have to do some explaining later.

After dinner, I decided to go up to my room and take a shower, but changed my mind when I passed by the deck and saw the hot tub. The unoccupied hot tub, which used to be a rare moment back when my stepbrothers were still staying here. So I went up to my room to change into my swimsuit, and found that my room was still intact. The cream coloured wallpaper, princess phone, glass topped dressing table and a four-poster bed with lace canopy were all still here.

Despite my initial aversion to pink, I did warm up to this room eventually, just like the rest of the house. Especially when I found out that this house, despite being almost 200 years old, was devoid of any ghosts. That made everything about a million times better.

After changing, I went to the deck and turned on the water to the tub. When it was almost full, I turned it off and went in. Instantly my body relaxed in the hot water, and all the tenseness in my muscles disappeared.

This was heaven.

It was peaceful outside here, the light of the day slowly letting go with a beautiful sunset, allowing darkness to fall. I didn't know how long I spent in the tub, but it was enough to make my mind clear, and my skin to wrinkle. When the water had cooled, I slowly stood up and let myself out.

As I was drying myself, the sliding door opened, and my mom walked out with a mug in her hand.

'I made some cocoa for you,' she announced, smiling. 'You must be freezing.'

I was surprised at this gesture, since the last time my mom made cocoa for me must have been when I was about 8, after waking up to a nightmare about the Boogeyman. But I thanked her and took the mug, before sitting down at one of the chaise longues and she sat down on the one next to mine.

She made some small talk about her work, and then about 'the boys' (my stepbrothers). But as I sipped my drink and nodded to her words, I knew she was leading to a certain topic. It was her skills as a reporter; see, talking about general stuff to make you feel comfortable, before moving onto the real point.

And I was right. After a few minutes of talking, she stopped. Then she turned towards me and asked, 'So why did you come back, Suze?'

I knew there was no way to avoid it, but all of a sudden I felt reluctant to talk about my problem.

'I just…missed you guys,' I said, shrugging.

'Nice try. Now tell me the real reason you came back. Because I know that unless there's an event or something important that's happening, you won't be here,' she said pointedly. But she didn't look mad or anything, just curious.

I sighed. Now that she was asking, I didn't know if I should tell her. It was kinda embarrassing, being 22 years old and asking your mom about advice on relationship. I never needed to ask for her help about anything else before.

'Suze?'

I sighed again. 'It's… Jesse.'

And then the whole story came out. From the moment at the party when we met after our break up, the whole sneaking around, his still unyielding parents, Terry the Terrible and everything else related. Even I was shocked about how much I told her, but I was like the hot tub, once you turn on the pipe, the water just came pouring out, non-stop.

Mom, being mom, was of course very sympathetic and she hugged me about 5 times during the exchange. She didn't even say anything about me not telling her that I had gotten back together with Jesse.

I didn't realize I was crying until I felt a wetness on my left cheek. I wiped at my face, putting my mug of cocoa on the ground and feeling much like a loser.

'I just…don't know what to do. I'm trying so hard to be tough and everything, but it's not easy. I know that his parents would probably never like me, no matter what. So what's the point of us being together anyway?' I sobbed pathetically.

'There, there, my poor baby,' my mom murmured, treating me like the nightmare-having 8-year-old. She rubbed my back, listening to my sad story. When I had calmed down, only then did she speak.

'Suze, do you love Jesse?' she asked.

I glanced at her through my tear-stained eyes. Duh, mom. 'Of course I do. Did you miss the whole I–love-him-but-couldn't-be-with-him speech just now?'

She ignored my sarcasm and asked another question. 'Does he love you?'

'Of co-' I paused uncomfortably. Silly Suze, of course he does. 'Yeah, he does. I'm sure he does.'

Again, she ignored my hesitation and continued on. 'Then I'm afraid it's not really in your hands, Suze. If you love him and you don't want to leave him, then it's up to Jesse to decide what he wants. You, or his family. It's his choice to be made.'

I felt goosebumps on my skin, and rubbed at them with my towel. 'But…I don't want to make him choose between me and his family. It's just…not fair to him.'

'And it's not fair to either of you if you continue on with this secret relationship. Sooner or later, someone will find out, especially if that Theresa girl –'

'Terry,' I butted in.

'- is as interfering as you claimed,' she said. She's really on a roll here, with this whole ignoring me deal. 'The best way that I see, is that you two need to sit down together, and have a serious talk about where this relationship of yours is heading. There's no point in trying to fool yourselves.'

'I know…' I admitted reluctantly. 'I'm just not good with this serious talk business. And I don't want to lose him…'

Mom looked concerned. 'I can't possibly imagine what it's like for you, Suze. I've never had to make a choice like this, not with your father and not with Andy. But I'm worried that you're only going to hurt yourself if you don't remove yourself from this situation.'

'Either way…someone's going to get hurt, isn't it?' I stated, not really asking for an answer. I felt miserable, knowing that my dream future with Jesse might be just that…a dream.

'Talk to him,' she advised. 'You never know, people can change.'

That's what Cee told me too. That there's a chance that Jesse's parents might change. Or at least, change their mind about me.

I doubt it, but I guess there's no loss in hoping.

Talk to Jesse. That's what I'm going to do. As soon as I get back to SF, I'm going to call him, and we're going to have a serious talk.

I wonder if that's what he wanted to do when I left him today?

Oh well. Tomorrow will be just as fine. At least tonight, I can sleep better knowing that I have something to look forward to.

- 0 – 0 – 0 -

The next morning, I woke up feeling refreshed and determined. Determined to enjoy my time here before leaving, before going into a possibly heartbreaking discussion.

So after some light breakfast, I headed out to the beach to get some tan. Really, I'm so pale, even the ghosts look better than me. Not that I've met any recently, which is something I should be really thankful for.

On the way, I decided to drop by the Mission, aka my old school. I was thinking about seeing Father D, maybe ask him about the new students and gossip about Monsignor Constantine. I bet he misses me, not so much as a student, but as a fellow mediating partner. Sure, our methods were different, but our intentions were the same. That's all that mattered.

I know sometimeshe doesn't really think that, especially when I resort to exorcisms, but I think we worked well together anyway.

My hopes for a reunion were dashed though, when I was told by one of the nuns there that Father D has left for a convention of some sort in Nevada.

Nevada? I asked the nun if she was sure that it was a real convention, since you know, _Las Vegas_ is in Nevada.

She gave me a look and walked off huffily. Jeez. No need to get so upset.

So I headed down to the beach.

It was morning, so there weren't many people as yet. I chose a spot near the stairs, laid my beach towel and took off my T-shirt and jeans. I had put on my old leopard print bikini, not really caring that it didn't look new, just that it was comfortable. After putting on some suntan lotion, I laid down on the towel.

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up to the sun beating down on my back. I didn't bring a watch, so I had no idea what the time was. Groaning, I slowly sat up, assessing my body for sunburns.

No sunburn. Thank God, or I would have ended up looking like a cooked lobster with green eyes.

I collected my stuff groggily, putting on my shirt and jeans before making my way to my car. As I was walking, I saw someone who looked disturbingly familiar walking out of Jimmy's Quick Mart. Then I realized who he was, and embarrassingly, I felt like I was in high school all over again.

That's what you feel when you meet your ex-boyfriend. Or at least, in my case.

Feeling my heart pounding for nological reason, I quickly walked to my car, making sure my face was turned to the other side. It was stupid, wanting to run away from him, but the way we ended, I didn't think it would be such a good idea to meet him. Especially since he got that blonde chick hanging off his arm.

I always knew he prefers blondes. Ugh.

Relieved that I'd made my way to the car without being seen, I dumped my stuff on the passenger seat and drove off.

When I reached home, Andy and mom were waiting for me. They were getting ready to have lunch, so I helped set up the table to make up for my lateness. As we were eating, my mom started talking about some houses being sold. I wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying – Andy's food was too good, sorry – until she mentioned something about a glass house.

'What did you say?' I interrupted.

She turned towards me. 'The glass house by the cliff. It was donated for charity by the previous owner. The owner's family is trying to get the court to rule for the house to be in their possession, but I don't think it's going to happen. The will was written very clearly for the house to be donated. But I'm not surprised that the family wants it, the house's value is estimated at about 8 million dollars.'

'8 million,' Andy whistled. 'That's a lot of money for something that's made out of glass.'

Mom rolled her eyes at Andy's lame joke, but I was too lost in thoughts to care.

So maybe that's why Paul – my notorious ex - was here, to make sure that the house belong to the his family – the Slaters. I suddenly feel sad that Grandpa Slaski - the owner of the glass house - is dead. I've only met him a few times, but he seemed okay, for a sick person. Of course, Paul didn't think that, he just called his grandfather a bunch of names and didn't even spend much time at that house. Unless he was bringing some girls back, me unfortunately being one of them.

I always had a feeling that Grandpa Slaski knew more than he let on. He was the one who warned me that Paul wasn't someone I should be close to. And I understood what he meant when I finally told Paul that I was a mediator, and he just laughed at me. He said if I wasn't careful, I'd be 'as crazy as Grandpa Gork'.

Imagine how I felt when I found out that he himself was a mediator. God, that pissed me off more than the day I found him making out with Kelly – my class president - in a classroom.

I was so stupid back then. It was painful remembering my relationship with him. No wonder mom was so pleased about Jesse, I mean, compared to Paul, Jesse is like the Pope.

Hah, I bet the Slaters were beyond angry that Grandpa Slaski decided to donate the house, instead of willing it to them.

Good for you, Grandpa.

After lunch I packed up my things to go back to SF. I said goodbye to mom and Andy, even hugged them both voluntarily. I felt a little hollow to be leaving this house, to be leaving them. Here, everything is calm and everyone seems to take their time in doing anything, compared to the hustle bustle of the city where I live now.

When I hugged mom, she whispered for me to be positive about Jesse, and to call her if I ever needed to talk.

I appreciated that. And I think she's glad that after about 16 years of not confiding to her, I've let go that part of myself. She didn't know that I still keep one big secret from her, but I figured if the right time comes, I'll do what I feel is right, even if it meant telling her about me being a mediator.

We said our goodbyes and I drove away, back to reality.

I think my time away did me good though. For one thing, I knew what I had to do with this whole Jesse situation: talk with him. For another, it made me feel glad that even if things didn't work out, at least my taste in men has improved since Paul.

When I'd reached the city, I decided to stop at Barnes & Nobles and replenish my stationery stock at work. I feel bad for the trees in general whenever I use too much paper, but I couldn't help it that my writingis bigger than the average.

As I was deciding between 70-paged or 100-paged notepads, I heard my name being called. Actually, it was a version of my name.

'Susan? Is it Susan?'

Feeling slightly annoyed, I turned to look at the person, ready to snap when I saw that it was the woman whom Jesse and I met at the hotel yesterday. The one who was overly cheerful, it was kinda sickening.

'You were the journalist who came to Hotel Twenty yesterday, am I right?' She smiled toothily.

What was her name? Crap, I forgot.

'Yes, I was. And it's Susannah, actually. Susannah Simon,' I clarified, hoping that she would re-introduce herself to me.

'Oh, I'm sorry. Susannah, that's right. I don't know if you remember me, but we met yesterday? I'm Clara Jones,' she said, holding out a hand.

Oh, right. Clara Jones. Vice President of Hotel Twenty. Now I remember.

I shook her hand and smiled, not really knowing what to say. I had no idea why she was speaking to me. Maybe she wanted to know what we're going to write in the magazine. Hah, maybe she's trying to get a mention inside the article. Too bad we're not actually writing it.

'How was the interview?' Clara asked brightly.

'It went well,' I lied.

'I'm glad to hear that. Mind you, we haven't had any journalists coming to interview us for a long time. This whole YLN business has been a real setback,' she said.

I felt a little curious as to why would she say something like this to a journalist. So I asked her if she wasn't worried that we would print not-so-nice stuff about the hotel.

She looked around, as if afraid that someone might overhear, then spoke in a low voice, 'To be honest, I was hoping that you would. Despite what Robert has been saying, we've been doing worse since YLN monopolized the industry. And it's not just that…'

I looked at her expectantly.

'Everyone has noticed what happened to Darren and Steven. It's too strange to be a coincidence. And I'm afraid that if Robert isn't relenting, he could be next. And then me!' She looked at me, wide-eyed.

'Wait a second. So you think that what happened to Darren and Steven were not accidental or natural?' I asked.

'Don't you? What happened to them was a bit suspicious, don't you think? Well, everyone at Hotel Twenty thinks that, but no one dared to voice them out loud for fear that Robert might let go of them.'

Hmm. This was interesting. 'So let me get this straight. You want us to print a bad article about Robert and Hotel Twenty so that he would resort to selling it? I don't think it's going to work.'

'I – well, not a bad article…' she faltered. 'I'm just afraid that YLN will go to any lengths to get the hotel.'

'Then you should do something about it. Maybe make a police report or something. I can't really help you much, sorry,' I told her.

'But are you going to look into this? You're a journalist, right? So you can find out more about what's really going on,' she said, somewhat desperately.

'Well…' I wondered if I should tell her. 'Off the record, we do have some suspicions about YLN. But there's no evidence. It's really none of our business; we just wanted to do a profile on Robert for the magazine.'

The magazine which I have also forgotten the name. Some fake journalist I was.

'Oh, so you _do_ think it's suspicious. Well, that's something, at least…' she trailed off. She didn't look so imposing up close, unlike yesterday, with her red pantsuit and bright red lipstick. Now, in a beige blouse and skirt, she even looked much younger.

Of course, that may be due to Botox, but whatever.

'Look, we'll try and look into it, okay? In the meantime, just keep a low-profile and YLN won't bother you,' I assured her.

She looked relieved, and I actually felt a little sorry for her. It must have been scary knowing that you're probably next in line for an assassination.

Looks like I was wrong when I thought nothing was going on yesterday. I must tell Jesse –

Come to think of it, I have a lot to tell Jesse.

I'll just call him when I get home. Maybe we can have dinner, if he's not working.

Clara and I went on our way after talking about some books she was buying, and I left the shop after paying for my new things. I guess I was wrong about Clara. She was actually quite nice.

It wouldn't be the first time I've been wrong about someone.

The traffic wasn't so bad as I drove home. I turned on the radio and flicked through the channels to find a preferable song. I'm not so into all these rap-rock stuff. I could barely understand what the singers are saying, let alone endure the heavy guitar riffs and all that.

The light turned red at the four-way intersection, and I stopped my car just in time, the car in front of me made it all the way through. I leaned down to look at the station numbers on the radio properly, when my car was suddenly jolted from behind.

Since I didn't pull on the handbrake, my car slid easily across the junction on the way of oncoming traffic from the left hand side. Wild with panic, I slammed on the brakes and tried to swerve to the right, but it was too late. A dark blue SUV smashed into my side of the car, sending it spinning and skidding before colliding against a traffic light on the other side of the intersection.

The car had stopped, but inside I felt like I was still spinning. The window on my side had shattered during the collision, and I was vaguely aware of sounds of other cars braking, and people shouting, but it was as if I was hearing them through a veil.

Something warm was trailing down my face, and when I tried to move, my whole body _hurt_. I couldn't shift my left leg, and I somehow knew that it must be broken.

And then much to the embarrassment of mediators everywhere – except Paul because he has no shame - I passed out.


	7. Fractured

I told someone that I was planning to have a weekly update of _Forbidden_, and the person asked me, 'So you're going for quantity instead of quality?'

See, I didn't know you can't have both.

So since this update came only about a week since the last one, please inform me if the quality of this chapter is low. I have no problems taking four months before updating again, like I used to, in order to produce a quality chapter.

Anyway, this chapter is short, because it's supposed to be a prelude to the next chapter. But just so you know, it might be another four months before the next update.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

-Aina-

* * *

_**Suze**_

I woke up to bright white lights and the clean scent of bandages.

Blinking against the lights, it took me a few seconds to adjust my eyes before I was able to see clearly. I was in a small room with a curtained window on my right, a small TV hanging from the wall in front of me and a closet beside my bed. Based on that familiar smell of medicines, I knew that I was in a hospital.

I hated hospitals. I'd spent enough time in them during my teenage years to last a lifetime. Which was why I groaned out loud, because I didn't like where I was, not because my head was hurting.

Maybe that too.

I was thinking if I should call the nurse while wondering why the hell no one was there with me, when I realized that everyone I knew probably didn't know that I was here. Sure, I got my ID in my purse, but I didn't have a card which proclaimed _'In case of emergency, please call …'_ and rightfully too, since as far as I know, no one has those cards except kindergarten kids.

Then the door on my left magically opened, and a doctor walked in.

_Jesse._

No, wait.

It's _not_ Jesse. My brain must have been muddled with the drugs they'd given me.

Fighting the rising disappointment, I watched as the doctor walked over to me, peered into my eyes and said, 'Suze?'

And that's when I recognized the doctor as Jesse's best friend, Dylan.

I wanted to reply, but my throat felt dry. He must have known that, since he said, 'You don't have to talk' before picking up a plastic cup of water with a straw from the bedside table and held it to my lips so I could drink it.

I drank until it was finished, and felt sorry that there wasn't anymore. I was really, really thirsty.

But Dylan just placed the cup on the table before looking back at me analytically. "Better? Nod so you don't have to speak.'

I nodded, but managed to croak feebly, 'Yeah.'

'Good,' he said. Then he proceeded to check my head wound, my bandaged hands, my sore ribs, before moving on to my left leg that was in a cast, all the while asking me to nod if it hurt when he prodded at them.

As he wrote some notes on a clipboard that he picked up from the end of the bed, he told me about my injuries – broken leg, a cut on my temple that needed 5 stitches, some cuts on my hands and some bruising on my ribs. No concussions and no internal bleeding. So none of my injuries were really serious, even the broken leg, because even though it was broken in two places, just above my ankle and on my calf, the fractures were clean breaks so they didn't even have to put metals or screws on.

I was glad about that, as you can guess. But not so glad when he told me that my clothes were pretty much ruined since they had to cut it open in order to check for my wounds.

Then maybe because he thought I wanted to know, he told me that some people who had watched my accident called an ambulance that sent me here. When he saw that it was me, he decided to be the doctor in charge, since Jesse wasn't there.

I was dying to ask about Jesse, but I was afraid of what the answer might be. I know that sounded completely absurd, but I just couldn't explain it away.

The fact that Jesse couldn't visit me because he was with someone else.

'Jesse couldn't be here because his sister has a dancing competition in Sacramento. I've tried calling him, but he must have switched off his phone. But I left a bunch of messages, so don't worry,' Dylan explained, obviously knowing what I was thinking.

Same way Cee Cee always knew, I guess. It's written all over my face.

Then I thought about what Dylan said, and almost laughed out loud. But not because I was happy.

I was right. Jesse _was_ with someone else, just not whom I had guessed. And although I knew that he couldn't have known that I had just been involved in a stupid car accident and was stuck in a hospital, I couldn't help but feel a bit resentful that he wasn't here, waiting for me to wake up.

It was completely selfish, and I felt guilty even blaming him, but…

I just wanted him to be with me. Was that too much to ask?

'Suze?'

Then I realized that Dylan was saying something. I looked up, and saw that he was looking at me, all concerned. His eyes were really blue. It was a great idea for him to dye his hair black because it really brought out his eyes, making them look almost transparent.

Okay, how is it that I could be lying there feeling bad about myself, yet in the next moment started analyzing my doctor's hair style?

I blamed the drugs.

'Do you want me to call anyone else for you? Your parents, your friends?' Dylan repeated, and I looked at his face, instead of his hair.

I thought about his question. Did I really want anyone else around? I knew my mom would freak but I didn't think it was a good idea for her and Andy to be driving here in panic, especially since I just left Carmel a few hours ago. If I got the time right.

And I didn't feel like I should bother Cee, she's already busy with her wedding preparations. Fiona? I didn't think it would be right to ask her to come, and I didn't even know if she was busy with her fiancée or anything.

Suddenly I realized that I'd become a burden. Really, what right did I have to ask anyone else to drop their stuff and come over to visit me? It wasn't like I was in a life or death situation or anything – well, not anymore – and I knew I could handle myself.

They'd probably be mad at me for not telling them about this, but I figured I could tell them later, when I no longer look – and feel – so bad.

'I think I'll just wait for Jesse,' I said, my voice rusty from the dryness.

And I knew about that whole our-relationship-is-secret thing that we had, but I figured no one would think twice about seeing him help out an ex-girlfriend. I mean, he's a nice guy, he would do that just because it was in his nature. To help people.

'Okay,' Dylan replied.

Then he placed the call button in my hand, and told me to press it if I needed anything, since he had to go check on his other patients. I told him I wanted water, and he said he will ask a nurse to bring me more water. Then he told me to rest, because 'you've been through a lot' and he will come and check on me later.

I watched him leave, but I didn't fall asleep. My body still ached in some parts, but my mind was still functioning as far as I could tell.

First thing I thought about was, as hard as it was to believe, not about Jesse.

I was actually thinking back to the accident earlier.

Despite what the logical part of my brain was telling me, the fact that it was impossible for my accident to be intentional, it was totally what I felt. Dylan didn't tell me how the accident happened, but I didn't need him to. Because from what I remembered, my car was hit from behind, which caused it to move forward to the intersection, before the SUV crashed into me. It wasn't the SUV's fault; it was just going on its way when my car crossed its path. But my car wouldn't have crossed its path if it wasn't hit from behind in the first place.

Unless the driver behind me didn't stop in time, but that was impossible. I had stopped my car for at least 5 seconds, which would have given any car behind me enough time to see the red light, see my car and stop.

But if my accident was intentional…that means someone is out to kill me.

For what?

If it was YLN-related, then it didn't make any sense.

One, I have nothing to do with Hotel Twenty whatsoever. My death wouldn't have resulted in YLN getting the hotel anymore than Darren's death had been. Because Robert was still alive, and he was not budging from his decision to keep the hotel, no matter what they do.

So two, if they had suspected anything about me, I would have been third in line _after_ Robert and Clara, if they wanted to get rid of us at all.

Oh my God. Clara. She spoke to me about her suspicions…what if she has _already… _been rid of?

I needed to call her and tell her to get out of town or something. Because if I couldn't save Robert, the least I could do was save Clara. The only way someone could have suspected me would be if they had listened to my conversation with her, and assumed that I _was_ a journalist out to investigate YLN, and decided to off me before I could do anything further.

And since I was relatively fine during my trip to Carmel and back, the person must have been following Clara instead, when she bumped into me. By that stroke of luck, they got more information than they would have if we hadn't met at the bookstore.

My heart was pounding really fast as I realized this, and I knew I had to do something. So I slowly sat up and reached for the phone on the bedside table when a nurse entered the room, carrying a jug of water with another plastic cup with a straw.

'Miss Simon! You're supposed to be resting!' she said admonishingly, her voice booming in the small room.

She was a big lady, towering over me as she placed the tray on the table, and I felt a bit scared. She reminded me of Sister Ernestine, my teacher back in high school at Junipero Serra Catholic Academy, and I had always been afraid of her, even though I acted like I wasn't.

'I need to call someone,' I said timidly, sitting back on my bed. 'It's really important.'

'Whatever it is, it can wait,' she said firmly, pouring water into the cup and placing the straw in. I wanted to protest, but I was really thirsty, so I just drank the water without complaining.

When I was done, she walked around fixing my blanket and I laid back down, pretending to go to sleep. Once she was satisfied that I was resting, she went out.

I counted to 10 before sitting up, careful that I didn't move my head too fast because it made me feel dizzy, and reached for the phone again. I looked at the instructions for which number to press on the little piece of paper inside the phone cradle, before pressing 9 for outside calls, then 0 for operator.

I asked for the numbers of Jones, Clara and was given 3 different numbers for 3 different Clara Joneses. I only memorized the last number since I didn't have any pen or paper to write the others down.

Oh well. I dialed the number anyway, since I can always call back operator and ask for the other two numbers if this one didn't click.

I waited while it rang before the voicemail came on. Fortunately, it sounded like the Clara Jones I was looking for, so I said who I was and asked her to call me ASAP. I gave my cell phone number along with it, before hanging up.

I felt a little worried that she wasn't at home. Maybe she's still out shopping or something, and I hope she's okay and not lying in some other hospital with a broken leg like me.

Well, even that would be better than lying in a morgue.

After that little piece of activity, I felt a little woozy. I guess I should sleep now. There was nothing more I could do, other than drive to Clara's house and wait until she comes back, something unthinkable with my left leg currently useless.

Maybe when Jesse gets here, I'll tell him everything. He'll know what to do.

I drifted off to drug-induced sleep, thinking about Jesse and whether he had gotten Dylan's message yet.

-0-0-0-

I woke up feeling slightly better, but starving. I never liked hospital food, but did I really have any choice?

I used the call button and when a nurse – a different one than the earlier nurse – came, I told her I was hungry. She said I was lucky that dinner was served just a while ago, so there would probably be some left. Then she went off to get a meal for me.

As I waited, I realized that I was still alone.

I guess Jesse wasn't here yet. Well, duh, Suze. Unless he went to the bathroom or something, his absence was quite obvious.

Disappointed, I decided to think about something else, and so I made a mental list of the people whom I would ask to sign my cast.

I was considering whether to let the postman sign my cast – he's always been really nice to me - when the nurse came with the meal. I asked her for the time, and she told me it was almost 8.15pm. My heart sank, because I knew that the visiting hours were only until 9pm.

Then I remembered that Jesse worked at this hospital, so visiting hours didn't apply to him. I ate my dinner feeling a little happier, especially since the nurse had switched on the TV and _The Sixth Sense _was showing, leading to me laughing at the scared kid in the most inappropriate places.

After I had finished eating, I had the most terrible realization.

I had to go to the bathroom.

Knowing that I couldn't move around without someone's help, I called for the nurse again, only this time, it was the first nurse, the strict one. But since I couldn't hold it any longer, I told her I needed to go to the bathroom. She helped me out of the bed and walked me to the bathroom, which wasn't that far away since it was connected to the room. But it still felt like forever before I reached there.

I drew the line when she wanted to help me inside the bathroom though. I was all, I can take care of myself. I was wearing just a bra, panties and the hospital gown so I was okay.

When I was, er, relieving myself, the weirdest thing popped into my head.

Dylan saw me in my bra!

Needless to say, that was a very awkward and embarrassing thought. I knew he's a doctor and he's used to seeing people naked and stuff, but…wouldn't it be weird, seeing your best friend's girlfriend in her undies, even if she was unconscious and covered in blood?

Feeling a little stupid, I cleaned myself, washed my hands and limped to the bathroom door.

The nurse was waiting outside, and as she moved to help me, she said, 'You have a visitor.'

My heart leaped, and I almost started to hop to my bed, knowing that Jesse must already be here. Then I froze, thinking how bad I must have looked, and I didn't even check myself in the mirror! I almost turned back to the bathroom, when I saw who my visitor actually was.

I couldn't believe it.

No. Freaking. Way.


	8. Forsaken

Hi all lovely people.

I know you're dying to know who's waiting for Suze in her hospital room, and you'll find out in the third line of this chapter.

Thanks to Steph, for her help with 'wills'. Hehe.

Lots of reviews, please? This was a hard chapter to write.

Loves, Aina.

P.S. This is dedicated to all footie fans who hate Chelsea FC. If you don't, boo to you!

* * *

_**Suze**_

'Hi Su-_zie._'

Terry purred from where she was sitting on one of the two chairs beside my bed.

I was immobile with shock and the nurse had to practically drag me back to the bed, before I regained my senses. As the nurse arranged the pillows behind me, tucked in my blanket and set my cast carefully, Terry and I stared at each other silently. My stare was understandably hostile, while hers looked unexplainably…smug.

Well, of course she would be smug. She has full use of her legs, no cuts or bruises and a face with perfectly applied makeup. Plus, her clothes are still intact. Unlike mine. No wonder she's so smug.

But I was so wrong, as I later found out.

When the nurse had left after reminding Terry that the visiting hours will be over in 15 minutes, I spoke even before the door was completely shut.

'What the _hell_ are you doing here?'

She pursed her pretty red lips, and shook her head. 'Language, Suze. Aren't you glad that I've come to visit you since -' she glanced around the room '– no one else have?'

I narrowed my eyes, that familiar itch in my hand returning. You know, the one that always makes me feel like slapping her.

'Yeah, thanks for your concern. Now tell me the real reason why you're here. How did you even know I'm here anyway?'

She shrugged her bony shoulders. 'I was lucky. I was visiting a friend in another ward when I saw your name on the board at the counter. Of course I had to stop by…'

'Of course you do,' I said sarcastically. 'Now that you've stopped by, would you kindly leave me alone?'

'Well, if you're going to be like that…' Terry trailed off with a forlorn expression that I knew was put on, before changing her demeanor in the blink of an eye.

'Then l won't waste my time.'

She whipped out a large brown envelope that had been leaning against her chair on the floor, her face looking like the She-Bitch that I've come to recognize.

Before I could ask her what was going on, she flipped open the end of the envelope, and poured the contents all over my lap. It looked like a bunch of A4 papers.

'You asked me to prove that I was right. So I did,' Terry informed me self-righteously.

I didn't understand what she was going on about, until I picked up the first paper from my lap. It wasn't paper at all, because when I turned it around, I saw that it was a blown-up photograph.

I sucked in a painful breath, and felt all blood drained from my face. Because the photograph wasn't just a photograph. It was a photo of me.

With Jesse. Kissing.

Disbelieving of what I was seeing, I picked up another photo and turned it around, and it was a picture of Jesse and I standing close together, talking. Another photo showed similar poses, with both of us talking, a few shots of us kissing and the final one was of me walking away with Jesse watching from behind.

I recognized this. All of these were taken when we were at Hotel Twenty, when I was saying goodbye to Jesse. Which was impossible, since we were _inside _the building when it happened.

That made me realize that this wasn't Terry's work, _couldn't_ be Terry's work because there was no way she was capable of taking a picture with a long lens or whatever, and produce quality photos like these.

I looked up at her arrogant face, unable to form a coherent sentence. She saw that, and took advantage of it. 'It's good, no? Expensive, that Salvador, but I think it's worth it. Just looking at your face now is enough for me to justify the price I paid.'

That – that – you…_bitch_.

'You bitch,' I said slowly, my shock replaced with anger. 'How could you hire someone to- to go around taking my pictures – I mean, it's so clearly an invasion of privacy and –'

'Not just your picture. You and Jesse. And you dare to tell me that you have nothing going on with him?' she said spitefully, her eyes so narrow they were like slits on a snake.

Fitting, since that was exactly what she was. A conniving _snake_.

I fumed. 'What business is it of yours if there's something going on with us? Why are you so intent on putting your nose to where you clearly don't belong?'

I wasn't making much sense anymore, I was so angry. She had the nerve to act like she was the one who was wronged, like _I_ was the one interfering with her relationship. GOD.

'It's my business,' Terry hissed, 'because you are messing with my plans! I _told_ you he was mine, and that's the way it will be!'

'Oh yeah? Well, _clearly_, he has made his choice. And it's not you. So can't you go find some other eligible guy to have and leave mine _alone_?' I nearly shouted the last word at her face.

I wouldn't be surprised if smoke were coming out of my ears, because I felt like my head was on fire.

She just sat and stared at me, her mouth pulled so thinly that her lips were almost invisible. Then she cocked her head and said carefully, 'Not if he's not your choice.'

See? She's obviously mental, speaking nonsense like someone who had just been in a car accident, even though I was the one allowed that excuse.

'What?' I snapped.

'You said that he chose you. But if you don't want to be with him…then there's nothing he can do about it, am I right?' Terry raised one of her perfectly plucked eyebrow.

'You're insane if you think I don't want to be with him. Well, you're already insane, but you're way over you head if –'

She cut me off, shaking her head, not even looking mad that I said she was insane. 'Suze, Suze. Do you really think this, all of this, I did for you? All these pictures, I took just to show you? I am not _stupid_, Suze. What makes you think I wouldn't give all of these to his _parents_?'

I felt my face paled for the second time tonight, and slowly moved my head from side to side in incredulity. No way –

'You wouldn't,' I whispered, my voice suddenly lost its ability to function.

She smiled like a Cheshire cat, knowing that she had won.

'Oh yes, I would,' she said, pausing between the words to emphasize each one. 'I told you I would win. You could have made it easier if you'd stayed away from him before. But no, you have to come back and cause trouble for everyone. Now it would be so much harder for me to comfort Jesse after you've ended this fantasy relationship.'

I swallowed, feeling weak and helpless all of a sudden. My chest felt tight, and I was having trouble breathing. This wasn't fair.

My mom said it wasn't _my_ choice.

'If you have trouble deciding, here's something to help you make up your mind.' Terryble looked into her GUCCI clutch and pulled out a long, thin white envelope. 'Don't worry about that, it's just a copy.'

I didn't take the envelope from her hand, so she placed it on the bed, on top of the incriminating photographs.

'You can keep the pictures too, I can get more copies from Salvador. Don't worry, I'll be understanding. I'll give you a chance to end your relationship with Jesse by tomorrow. If you do, then I won't have to resort to using the photos after all, am I right?'

She has got to be kidding. No way were we having this conversation.

'What makes you think,' I spoke up, finding my voice again, 'that he will go to you even if I break up with him? He could easily find another girl to – to replace me.'

'He could,' Terry smiled, looking unconcerned. 'But he wouldn't disobey his parents. And his parents already approved of _me_ as their daughter-in-law.'

The worst part is, I knew she was right. She already has the de Silvas eating out of her hands and the only thing standing in the way of her and Jesse was me. And she was giving me the option to remove myself out of the way.

This was unbelievable.

'I think visiting hours is over,' Terry said, getting up and slinging her bag across her shoulder. 'I'll leave you to your…thinking.'

I sat unmoving on my bed while she walked around it on her way to the door. Then, just as she reached out to open it, I asked the one question that had been nagging me ever since I knew she existed.

'Do you love Jesse?'

She paused, then twirled around prettily, like she was on a catwalk instead of a hospital room.

Holding up her hand, she counted on her fingers with the other as she said in an annoying singsong voice, 'He's rich, he's handsome, he's Spanish, he's nice…what's not to love?'

Then she gave me a smirk, before turning around and walking out, leaving me in the ringing silence.

I couldn't believe it.

Everything that she had done…and she didn't even love him. At least, not the way I did. All she loved was his money and his looks.

Feeling my eyes starting to blur from the tears, I quickly wiped at them and gathered the photos to put them back in the envelope before a nurse or someone else found them. That's when I noticed the thin envelope that she had left behind.

I felt an overwhelming sense of dread as I picked it up, but I had to know what was in it. Taking a deep breath, I flipped back the cover and pulled out a bundle of papers that had been folded inside. Telling myself to calm down, I slowly opened up the papers.

At first glance, it looked like a contract of some kind, with words that filled each page from top to bottom. The top of the first page said 'Cravens, Walker and Associates' in big bold letters, followed by the title of the document.

_The Final Will and Testament of Augusto de Silva._

My heart pounded in my ears as I skimmed through the papers, registering what they held in content until I couldn't read anymore because the papers had started to shake, and I realized that it was because my fingers were trembling, and I put the papers down. Then, still trembling a little, I gathered up the papers again along with the two envelopes and placed them inside the drawer of the bedside table.

All I could think was, how on earth did she manage to get this?

But it didn't matter how. Because it had done the damage she intended it to do, and that was all that mattered.

The document was, as it had clearly stated, the final will of Augusto de Silva. Also known as Jesse's father.

It was clear why Terry had given me this. The will was done recently, as recent as a month ago, according to the date on the papers, and it listed all of Mr. Augusto's possessions in comprehensive detail, along with who will get all of it once he had passed away.

Guess what? Jesse, being the eldest and the only son, got about, oh I don't know, 60 of the whole de Silva wealth?

Figures, since what would his sisters do with their whole ranch back in Spain? Jesse was the only one who knew anything about the family business, even though he didn't follow in his father's footsteps. He would know what to do with the ranch if it's handed to him.

But that wasn't the point. Terry didn't give me this will to show how much Jesse will earn – although God knows she's probably already plotting to get rid of Jesse's father – but to show me how much he will _lose_.

Because that's what's going to happen once Mr. de Silva found out about Jesse and me. He will cut him off Jesse from his own family, leaving him with nothing. I knew that this was not an exaggeration.

Oh God, help me. I can't break up with him.

But as the minutes passed by, I knew I had to do it. Not because of all the money that Jesse will lose, but his family. His sisters, whom he loved so much. Even his parents, because as much as he couldn't stand them, they're still his parents. And they loved him equally in return, despite the appearance that they didn't by forbidding our relationship. No, it was because of their love, that they wanted him to be with someone they thought was worthy.

And I clearly was not, according to them.

Could I force him to give up all of that just to be with me?

Was it really his choice to be made, or was it mine?

The answer was staring at me in the face, so obvious that it was agonizing to acknowledge it. The answer was in the reason why he was still not here with me, even though I was admitted more than three hours ago.

But even as the door suddenly opened, and Jesse walked in as if he just materialized from my thoughts, I knew it was too late to change my mind.

'_Querida_,' he said with such concern and anguish that I had to swallow to hold back a sob that was threatening to bubble out.

'I'm so, so sorry, I drove here as fast as I could - I received Dylan's message – _dios_, look at you – how did this happen?' Jesse was stumbling over his words, so unlike him that I would have laughed, if he was here before a certain female model did.

He hugged me tentatively, as if afraid that he might hurt me, and I could feel his heart racing like mad. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the feeling of how wonderful it was for him to be worrying about me, to be scared about me, just the way I imagined he would be.

'I'm fine, Jesse,' I said, as normally as I could. He released me when I didn't respond to his hug, my body tense.

'Are you sure? _Dios_, when I heard, I was imagining all the terrible things and – I can't believe how anyone could drive so carelessly that they ended up hurting other people,' he continued, looking furious.

I realized with a pang that I couldn't tell him about my YLN theory now, because there was no way he would leave my side if he knew my life was threatened.

Well, I didn't need him to protect me. Even if it would be nice if he could.

'Was Dylan treating you well?' Jesse kept on going. 'I wish I was here, but Beatrice had a –'

'I know, Jesse, Dylan told me. You don't have to explain anything,' I said quickly, keeping my eyes on my blanket. I couldn't face him. Not when I was about to do something that would break his heart.

And mine.

He must have sensed that something was wrong, because he paused before lifting my chin carefully so that my gaze was on him. 'Susannah, I understand that you're angry at me, and I'm sorry. But I swear, that if I had known –'

I couldn't hear any of this anymore. Because each word was slowly killing me.

'Jesse, I have to tell you something,' I blurted out, before I could stop myself and chickened out.

He looked searchingly at me, and I dropped my gaze again.

'Anything,' he replied, tenderly.

I swallowed, asking God to forgive me for doing this even though I never used to pray to God before, and said the words that I wish I never had to say.

'I've met someone else.'

There was a complete silence, and I kept my eyes on my blanket until I couldn't stand the silence anymore, and glanced up.

Jesse looked confused; like he was sure he had heard wrongly and was trying to make sense of what I was saying.

Feeling like a total jerk, I continued, 'I wanted to tell you. But…I didn't know how. And after what happened today, I knew I couldn't just go on not telling you, especially in the face of death –'

'_Wait_,' Jesse said, his face looking more angry than confused now. I felt a little scared, and quickly looked down again. 'What exactly are you trying to say, Susannah?'

Swallowing hard, I said faintly, 'I told you. I've met someone else.'

'When, just now?' He sounded as if he was going to laugh, but obviously he didn't.

'No, just… a few months ago,' I lied.

Jesse ran his fingers through his hair, a sign that he was frustrated. He looked away, then turned back at me. 'Is this a way to get back at me? For not getting here sooner? Because if it is –'

'No, it's not,' I denied, my voice rising a little. 'I'm telling you the truth.'

'I don't believe you,' Jesse said, as simple as that. He stared at me, as if by doing that he could figure out why I was acting so strangely.

'Fine. Don't. But – I'm telling you the truth,' I finished lamely.

This wasn't going the way I planned. Not that I had much time to plan anyway. God, I don't think I've hated anyone as much as I hated that Theresa right now.

But then I hated a little bit of myself too.

'What's his name?' Jesse said suddenly.

'Oliver,' I said, saying the first name that popped into my head. _Oliver_?

'How did you meet him?'

'He – he's my colleague at work. I've known him since I started working there…but it didn't become anything serious until a couple of months ago. That was why I needed to get away for a while, to think clearly and make a decision,' I went on. I wasn't completely lying about Oliver, although obviously it never turned into anything serious between us.

Felt like it had been years ago since poor Oliver had gathered his courage to ask me out and I had to turn him down.

Jesse looked angry, but his eyes were filled with hurt. 'Susannah, I don't understand. If you're really telling the truth…'

'I wouldn't lie about something like this,' I said, my words sounding false in my ears.

'But I thought -,' Jesse halted, sounding unsure of himself. 'I know that we haven't had the best relationship, but I thought we're going to work this through together. I've been meaning to talk to you about it yesterday but you had to leave.'

I wish there was a hole that would open up and swallow me. I wish the fire alarm would start ringing so that I could ran out of here, leg in a cast or not.

Anything at all to get me out of here.

'What's there to talk about, Jesse?' I said, reluctantly. 'We both know that this relationship isn't going anywhere.'

There. I've said it. I couldn't believe I said it, but I did.

Jesse just looked at me, like he was looking at a stranger. 'Susannah…you don't mean that. My parents, they need time before they can accept –'

'Well, I don't have time!' I suddenly retort, out of nowhere. 'I'm sick of waiting and sneaking around and pretending that everything was okay, when it's obviously not. If you were serious about us, you would have talked to your parents _ages_ ago. You don't wait for them to change their minds when they have no reason to!'

I stopped, breathing hard from raising my voice. My face was hot, and I knew that I had crossed a line, somewhere. But it was too late. Everything that I had been keeping inside, had been spilled open for him to see.

The look on his face…

I looked away, feeling my nose prickling from the threat oncoming tears. I didn't want to hurt him. But I had no choice. If I didn't hurt him this way, he would have been hurt another way.

I never understood what the saying 'cruel to be kind' meant, until now.

'_Querida_…' his voice was filled with what I assumed was regret. Or sorrow. I don't know. I certainly wasn't looking at him.

'If that's how you feel, then I'm truly sorry. It was never my intention to make it appear as if I wasn't serious about us. I _am_ serious about us. And I will go over to my parents' house, tonight, and tell them about us if that will make you feel better.'

My eyes widened, and I nearly yelled out 'No!' If he does that, then everything will be ruined. His father will have no problem creating a new will by tomorrow, and Jesse can say goodbye to his family.

Forever.

'No,' I said, a little forcefully, 'you don't have to do that. Look, it's – it's too late. I've made up my mind. You don't have to do anything.'

Jesse sighed, then sat down at the edge of my bed, taking one of my bandaged hands in his. His liquid eyes were so dark and grim that even though I wanted to look away, I couldn't. I was trapped.

'I don't want to lose you,' he said, his voice cracking at the 'you'.

I could feel his suppressed emotion even by just looking into his eyes, and I so badly wanted to say, 'Just kidding, Jesse! There's no Oliver in my life.'

But I couldn't. I loved him too much for that.

'Jesse, I'm sorry,' I whispered, really meaning what I said. 'I really am. But this was my choice. And I had to do what was right.'

That was probably the only truth I have told him all night.

'Even if it feels wrong?' he said, as if he was reading my mind.

'I – It doesn't. Feel wrong,' I started the lying cycle again, feeling completely miserable.

'It does to me,' Jesse sighed. His hand was warm on mine, and it took all my will not to hold onto it and never let go.

I didn't know how to respond to that statement.

"Susannah…last Thursday, I thought that we still had… something, despite everything that we had to go through. When you came over to my house, everything that happened after was perfect, but now I realized that maybe…maybe I was the only one who felt that way. If this is what you choose, then I just want to make sure that you're making the right decision…' Jesse's voice was gentle, and I knew that even then, he was still looking after me.

Even when he was hurting, he still wanted to make sure that I all right. How _wonderful_ was this man? I pushed that thought away and took a deep breath.

'Jesse…' I broke off, making sure that I was saying this properly, because he deserved it. 'Everything that happened between us _was _perfect. It was the other things that weren't. Just because we can't be together, it doesn't mean that what we had wasn't real. It was very real to me. But for all the realness…it was a dream, Jesse. And this accident allowed me to wake up and face the truth, however painful it is.'

Jesse didn't reply. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were heavy.

I remembered when I first met him in Madrid, I thought that he acted so much older than a 11-year-old kid was supposed to. He seemed to be constantly immersed in thoughts that I couldn't even begin to comprehend, and I wondered if I would ever find out about them. Even when we met again, I could never fully grasp whatever it was that he was thinking sometimes.

Now I will never have the chance to.

Then I felt his hand slipping away from mine and I looked up. He stood slowly, as if he was still contemplating on what to do.

Half of me wanted him to believe me and just leave, but the other half was screaming at him to look beyond my lies, to ask me questions that I couldn't answer, to find out why I was acting the way I was so that he would understand everything.

But when Jesse focused his dark eyes on me again, it was hard. And I knew that his mind was set.

'Then I will not stand in your way, _que_- Susannah,' he said.

I felt as if my heart was splintering when I realized that he had refrained from calling me _querida. _He would never call me _querida _again. I will never be called _querida _again, and even if I was, it would not be the same.

It's just a nickname, Suze.

But it was a part of him, just like the way he always calls me Susannah instead of Suze. And that part will be gone from my life, because of my own choice.

'I have to get to work,' Jesse said again, and he picked up his coat from the end of my bed, avoiding my eyes.

I nodded, knowing that if I tried to speak it would come out as a pathetic squeak, and I couldn't let him see me like that.

If I myself wasn't convinced that I was doing the right thing, how could I expect him to do the same? I had to be strong. I had to.

Jesse stood there uncertainly, his coat in his hands, and for the first time ever in all of this time that I've known him, it was _awkward _between us. Suddenly it was as if we were both strangers, like he was looking for someone else and instead stumbled into the wrong hospital room and found me instead.

'Well…if you need anything…'

I looked at him sadly, expecting him to offer his help, as he had always done, and braced myself for what I had to do, which was to say no to his offer.

'…you can tell Dylan.' Then he turned to walk away, even before I had registered what he just said.

Well…that was…unexpected. I guessed after all of this, he didn't want to be near me again. It was not something I would blame him for, even though it hurt like hell. The realization that he probably thought I was cheap, for being with him and yet thinking about another man. His perception of me must have changed drastically from the beginning to the end of this conversation. It was excruciating, this grief. It was nothing like I had ever faced before, even when I found out that Paul had lied to me about being a mediator. But _this_…this pain was raw and so blatant in its sense that if I wasn't strong enough, I would have keeled over and passed out from the pain, even more than I would have done after waking up fractured and stitched up after the accident.

But who was I to say that his hurt was any less than mine?

Just before he stepped out of the room, Jesse paused, his hand on the doorknob.

My heart started beating a little faster, and foolishly, I wondered if he was going to give me a goodbye kiss. And then I banished that thought, because I didn't know how he could still think favorably of me, after I had just let go of everything that we had to supposedly be with another man.

But he just stated quietly, 'Tell Oliver… he's a very lucky man.'

And then Jesse walked out of the room, and out of my life.

I sat there unmoving, my eyes still on the door.

Okay, Suze. You did it. You made him believe your lies, and now you two aren't together anymore. Aren't you just so _happy_?

Numb with the realization of what had just taken place and of what I had just done, I slid down the bed to lay my head on the pillow. The ceiling was starkly white and blank, and it was like I was looking at my own heart.

I was waiting for the tears to come, but they didn't come. I laid there, motionless, my mind empty, my eyes unblinking.

When I was 14, there was a girl in my class named Nicky, and she always cried whenever she had a fight with her boyfriend, which I thought was an extremely stupid thing to do. Crying wasn't going to solve whatever problem she had with him. And I swore to myself that I would never cry for a man, no matter what the reason was.

So I guessed I was holding on to that promise. Besides, why would I cry when I had just done the right thing?

Yeah. I won't be like Nicky. I won't cry for Jesse.

But I will cry for me.


	9. Fortuitous

My Jesseness has deserted me. That's my only explanation if Jesse sounds weird in this chapter.

Come back to me, Jesseness….

-Aina-

* * *

_**Jesse**_

The days are dark, like my heart.

I laughed out loud at that thought, feeling ridiculously sentimental. Nothing like pieces of corny words formed together to create the illusion that a person is a hopeless romantic. A simple poetry with a bouquet of flowers, and a man is dubbed the next Romeo Montague.

But how could I comment on it? I was no more a romantic than most men I know. It wasn't in my knowledge to speak of such things, especially when I had lost the only person who could ever turn me into the hopeless romantic.

Shaking my head, I realized that I was thinking incoherent thoughts so I moved away from the window in the men's room towards the row of sinks. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror above the sinks, saw my bloodshot eyes and was thankful that they were the only outward signs of how bad I was feeling.

Twisting the faucet, I leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on my face. I was only halfway through my shift, but my eyes were aching and my head was throbbing in dull pain. It was a way for my body to tell me that I was lacking rest and sleep, but I ignored it. Grabbing the paper towel from the dispenser, I wiped my face and headed out.

I made my way to the nurses' counter, where a number of nurses were grouped behind it, talking animatedly. Usually I would tell them not to project the image that they're not doing their jobs – even though they usually were, only they also worked with their mouths and not just with their hands – but today I wasn't in the mood to speak. In fact, I hadn't been in the mood to speak for the last couple of weeks. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.

Rifling though the stack of files on the counter, I read through some of the patients' profile, the nurses' conversation a buzz in the background.

'What are you talking about? Of course Dr. Derek! He's so handsome…'

'Lisa, Dr. Derek is a wuss. He and Meredith make a perfect pair. Jack Shepherd, now that's a real doctor. Intelligent, tough and good-looking. All I need in a man.'

'He's stuck in a darn island. Of course he has to be tough!'

'What about Dr. House?'

'Ew, he's mean! Imagine working for him!'

'Yeah, I know, but there's something about him that makes me want to take care of him...'

'You're mad, Dana.'

'You two kids don't know anything. The best doctor on television would have to be Dr. Ross, from the early ER. Handsome, nice and great with kids. He was the most perfect doctor ever written, trust me on that.'

'ER! I used to have a crush on Dr. Carter, you know. He's really cute…'

I blanked out the voices as I focused on the file in front of me. It was a file of Steven Stanley, which reminded me of YLN and Hotel Twenty. And the last meeting I had with Susannah before the inevitable thing happened.

Inevitable? Was I expecting her to end our relationship?

I closed my eyes and rubbed them, suddenly feeling completely exhausted. My stomach grumbled, indicating that I needed dinner besides sleep, but it went unheeded. I only came to the hospital because of my job, and nothing more.

'Ladies, you don't need to look at TV shows to find the perfect doctor. He's standing right in front of you.'

I glanced up at the sound of Dylan's voice, and saw him sauntering over to the counter, a lazy smirk on his face. Sighing, I quickly began to gather up the files to get away from him. I really didn't want to handle his questions at the moment.

'Dr. Rourke? I'd take Dr. House over you any day.' Laughter burst from the nurses, and instantly I felt sickened by their happiness.

It was as if by being miserable, I wanted everyone else to feel the same way. I wanted to infect the world with my wretched outlook, and all of a sudden I felt ashamed for being envious of other people's happiness. I was miserable because of my own doing, after all. What right did I have to loathe others for seizing every opportunity to be happy?

As I started to walk towards Steven's room, I heard my name being called. I ignored it at first, recognizing the voice, but then he called again so I had no choice but to turn around at the expense of being rude.

'Yes?'

'You look like shit,' Dylan stated, scrunching his face in disgust as he came up behind me.

'Thanks for letting me know. I didn't realize that,' I replied, a sarcastic tone to my voice.

Dylan paused, as if assessing my mood. I looked at him impatiently, and he said, 'Dude, really…if you got a problem, you know you can tell me.'

I sighed heavily. 'I don't have a problem, Dylan. I have told you time and time again, please don't think that if you ask me enough times, I would change my answer. I'm fine.'

'Like hell you're fine. You look like crap, coming into the hospital all moody and channeling Dr. Doom all over again…' he trailed off, before continuing, 'It is Suze?'

'Why does everything has to be about her?' I snapped, losing my patience.

'Because everything that is important to you is related to her,' Dylan answered simply.

I swallowed, feeling a lump in my throat as his words hit home. Everything in my life that mattered was about her. _She_ was everything that was important to me.

But apparently, I did not show it to her enough so that she never knew how I felt about her. She thought because I didn't tell my parents about her, she wasn't important.

The dull pain in my head throbbed again, and I took a breath.

'Are you alright?'

I opened my eyes and looked at him jadedly. 'I'm fine. Just a little tired. And you're right… it is about Susannah. She broke up with me.'

'Holy -! When?' He looked shocked.

'When she was in the hospital. She met another man. Now look, I have patients –'

He cut me off, not letting me escape so easily. 'Wait a second. She met another guy? But…weren't you two together?'

I clenched my jaw, memories of Susannah and I spending time together flooding back like unwanted currents. 'We were.'

'So how…?'

'She just…she works with him. They know each other. I don't really want to talk about it, Dylan.'

He still looked a little stunned. 'Is the guy the one who took her home?'

My mind flashed back to the day when Susannah was well enough to be released, and I stood at the corridor hidden, but in view of the entrance to see if she needed any help with her cast. I had told Dylan to ask an orderly to help her, but she had declined. I watched her limp with her crutches to the entrance and as the glass door opened, my heart dropped to the floor.

A young, good-looking man rushed in, walking hurriedly to her, all the while talking enthusiastically. I couldn't hear what was being said, but I saw her face lighting up when she saw him, and he grinned in return. He took her bag and walked with her outside, his hand placed on her arm.

I seethed at the sidelines, raw jealousy surging through me, but there was nothing I could do – at least nothing that wouldn't get me in trouble with the law.

I suppose I didn't really believe her claim of this Oliver, until I saw him myself. And that was when I knew it was over between us, the memory of her smiling at him playing itself over and over again in my head until I could barely concentrate on my job, sniping at everyone I met.

'I guess that's him,' I replied shortly, not liking the jealousy that threatened to return.

'Wow. No wonder you're acting all strange. And that explains…' he trailed off, comprehension dawning on his face.

Despite my initial desire to escape him, I was curious. 'Explain what?'

'Why she avoided talking about you…when I was treating her,' Dylan replied hesitantly.

I felt a stab of pain somewhere in my chest, and looked away. Susannah must have felt that topics about me were generally unpleasant, and amidst the sadness, I felt a little angry at her, for ending things the way she did. For choosing another man over me.

Maybe it was just my pride talking. She had the right to choose whoever she wants in her life, after all.

'It must be hard on you…I'm so sorry, man,' Dylan said again, his blue eyes sympathetic.

I didn't want his sympathy, because I didn't deserve it. He didn't know that the real reason why Susannah had broken up with me was because of my parents. I couldn't tell Dylan that, because I knew that he would push me to get back with her and make things right between us again, which was exactly my sentiment.

But remembering how happy she was with that Oliver, I knew I couldn't do that to Susannah. She must love him so, and to force her to choose between him and me was unfair. She was happy now, with him. That was all that mattered.

Though it didn't mean I had to feel good about it.

'It's fine. I have to go see my patients, I will talk to you later,' I said, walking off before he could respond.

As I mulled over the conversation, I realized that as much as I hate to admit it, talking to Dylan lessened the pain a little. I'd been keeping this inside of me for so long that it was a release to talk about it, even for a short moment.

Pushing the door to Steven's room, I walked over to him and checked his vitals. As I was writing the notes in his file, I heard a rustling behind me. I groaned, not looking forward to handling any ghost business.

'Doctor. Working late today?'

I glanced over at Darren and said wearily, 'Yes, as you can see.'

He cocked his head to the side and looked at me silently. I turned back to the file and continued my work.

'You've been working late a lot lately.'

'Is there something you want, Darren?' I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

'Yeah, there's something I want,' he retort, walking over to the side of the bed and glaring at me. 'I want you to find out what's going on with YLN. I want you to find out why Steven's still in the hospital. I want you to find out who did this to him and me. I want _something_, Hector!'

I glared back at him. 'I talked to Robert, and he claimed that what happened to you was an accident. You ate a blowfish that wasn't cleaned properly. Charges were filed, payments were made, case closed. Yetyou're telling me it's a murder?'

Darren looked angry, his glow seeming to double in its shine. 'It was a murder. I've been to that restaurant and ate the blowfish God knows how many times and never before had they made a mistake about not cleaning the fish properly. Someone else must have done the deed. Maybe they ordered someone to do it. You're supposed to figure it out.'

'Well, I've tried to research on the company, and I've tried to find some ways that to prove their guilt. But none of them leads anywhere,' I said, trying to explain.

'So what, you're just gonna give up? What about Steven, huh? Don't you think it's pretty strange that he's in a coma, even after you said that his heart attack was normal? Huh?'

I sighed, knowing that he was right.

I had wondered why Steven still hadn't woken up, even after almost three weeks in the hospital. His condition was stable, but he's just not awake. I didn't know why, and it would seem suspicious but for the nonexistent trace of any chemicals in his blood.

'It is a little strange,' I admitted. 'But Darren, there's no proof of foul play. Yes, Steven should have woken up by now and yet he has not, but he's not sick in any way. It is as if…he's sleeping.'

'Well, I think there's something wrong with him. And in case you've forgotten I can't move on until the murderer is caught, but I don't see you doing anything to help me in that direction. All you do is work, go back and mope around, and work again. When do you find the time to help me? Help _us_?'

I stared at him, his words hitting an angry spot. 'What do you mean, 'go back and mope around'? Have you been _following_ me?'

He shrugged, but his face changed, looking more uncomfortable. 'Well, I had to know if you're doing something…'

'Darren -,' I stopped and thought about my words carefully, intending to get the meaning clear. 'I will look into your situation, alright? I just need some time to actually do it. I do not need your supervision.'

Darren shook his head, turning to look at Steven who was lying peacefully on the bed. 'Time is not something we have. By the time you figure out what really happens, Steven and Robert might have already joined me in the afterlife. But hey, maybe that's a good thing. I sure wouldn't be lonely anymore…'

I took on his sad expression and suddenly understood how hard it must have been, not able to do anything while his friends become potential victims to murder. I still had my doubts, but being a mediator was something I was born to, and having a personal problem was not a reason to push him away.

Especially since I could, in a way, relate to his helplessness.

'I understand your frustration, and you're right. I haven't been looking into solving your problem lately. But I will. As soon as I get home, I will,' I promised.

In my mind, I knew that it wasn't just because I wanted to help Darren, but also because this could be a way for me to forget about Susannah.

Looking satistfied, Darren dematerialized with a nod. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, before continuing my notes for Steven. Then I left the room.

'Jesse!'

I turned and saw Elliot, one of my colleagues, rushing towards me.

'Can you do me a favor? I need to go see my wife on the 9th floor, she just went into labor, but I have a patient waiting for me in Room 416. Nothing major, she's just coming back for a checkup on her injury, just see if she's alright and let her go. I've already given her medicine the last time she was here. Would you please –'

'Of course, I'll take care of it. Just go and be with your wife,' I assured him.

'Thanks, Jesse. So sorry about this being last-minute and all,' he said, his voice fading as he hurried to the lifts.

I smiled, not able to imagine the anxiety of knowing you're about to become a father. Perhaps I will, one day.

That reminded me of Susannah again, and I cursed myself for still pining over her every single minute of the day. My mood souring, I made my way to Room 416.

I entered the room and was met with a familiar face. The woman sitting at the edge of the bed was young, with light hair, vivid blue eyes and a sparkly dress which didn't look fitting to a patient in a hospital.

But I couldn't remember where I had seen her.

'Oh hello,' she said, smiling. 'You're not my doctor. Although I wouldn't mind if you are...'

I ignored the comment and said, 'I'm Dr. de Silva. Dr. Zehr had an emergency, he asked me to take over your case for today.'

She sat up straighter, her smile widening. 'Lucky me.'

That's when it hit me. This woman was Club V lady. Dylan's ex-girlfriend. She looked familiar because I had seen her when she first came for a treatment a couple of weeks ago.

If only had Elliot met with Dylan instead of me, his reaction when he came into this room would have been rather funny.

I looked at her bandaged foot and asked, 'You injured your leg?'

'Yes, I twisted it,' she said in sad voice, lifting her knee-length skirt up to her thigh, even though her injury was clearly only around her ankle. I averted my gaze from her leg, and focused on her foot. Gingerly lifting it, I pressed around the ankle slowly.

'Does this hurt?'

She smiled slyly. 'No. Your touch is gentle…better than Dr. Zehr.'

I ignored that too, and pressed again. 'Here?'

'No…that feels good, actually.'

I dropped her foot like it was on fire, and asked, 'Does it hurt when you walk?'

She frowned, a somewhat disappointed expression on her face as she looked at her foot. 'Not really…'

'Thenyou're fine. Just finish the prescription Dr. Zehr gave you, and after that you can remove the bandage and wear proper shoes again.'

'Aren't you going to remove it for me?' she pouted, and I felt uneasy. Dylan had told me the type of woman she was, and I wasn't comfortable with her insinuations.

I shook my head quickly. 'No, you can do that yourself in a few days.'

'Hmm…okay.' She dropped off the bed and put on her sandals. 'My high heels are waiting for me to get back into them. They make my legs look much better than these things, you know.'

Pretending that I didn't hear her, I opened the door and waited for her to leave, but she didn't. Instead, she slowly made her way towards me, that sly smile on her face again. I backed away, but the wall was behind me, so I ended up standing a mere two feet away from her.

'It was very nice meeting you, Dr. de Silva. You're Dylan's friend, aren't you?'

I looked at her in surprise. 'How did you know?'

'Dylan mentioned you when we were dating. He didn't mention how handsome you are, though…'

'Well…' I paused, not knowing what to say. 'Thank you.'

She laughed, and then looked in her purse, searching for something. She pulled out a small card and held it up. 'This is my card. My family owns a nightclub downtown, called Club V. If you wanted hot dancing, a free drink or two, this is the place to go.'

I narrowed my eyes. 'I don't go clubbing.'

She shrugged. 'It doesn't matter. Sometimes we just need a place to get away from our problems… maybe you'll find this invitation would come in need in the future.'

Her words rang true, but she wasn't the type of company I ever wanted to affiliate myself with, problems or not. But I reached for the card, knowing that unless I take it, she wouldn't leave me alone. I could throw it away once she had left.

Just as my finger touched the edge, she let go and the card fluttered to the ground.

'My mistake,' she said apologetically, then bent down to pick it up, displaying more than sufficient view of her cleavage. _Dios. _I hastily looked up and fixed my view on the wall, shaking my head at her boldness.

It never made me feel comfortable at the way some women dress nowadays. But Susannah never had to resort to such ways to attract men, which made her even more attractive.

Stop. Thinking. About. Her.

The woman straightened up, a smirk firmly placed on her lips and held out the card again. 'There you go.'

I snatched the card quickly before she could get up to any of her other tricks again. She laughed, walking to the doorway. Glancing at me, she said, 'Hope we'll meet again soon, Doctor.'

Then she exited the room, leaving me feeling absolutely relieved.

I looked down at the card she just gave me. It was made of shiny dark blue material, with large silver lettering on one side, proclaiming 'Club V'. Her name and contact number were written at the bottom also in silver, along with the address to the club.

Maria Valera. Guess that solved the mystery of what the 'V' in Club V stands for. Not that I particularly care.

I walked down the hallway towards my own patient's room, noticing a trash bin besides the door. I moved towards it, intending to throw away the card and be on my way.

But as I looked at the shiny blue and silver, something in my mind told me to keep it. I didn't know why, I certainly didn't have any intentions to even be anywhere near that place, or that Maria woman. Certainly not that Maria woman. It appeared that everything Dylan has said about her were not exaggerations.

I paused for a moment, my hand hovering over the trash bin.

Then I pocketed the card and entered the room.


	10. Forgotten

Sorry this took a long time, I've been busy with my studies and exams, and then my other fic took my attention for a while, and then the World Cup ruled my life, and now I can finally update because my life is completely uneventful. Before my new semester starts again in about a week.

This is not a happy chapter, and I hoped I got it right because Jesse's voice is just so darn hard to write.

Thanks for reading my story, and please review!

-Aina-

* * *

_**Jesse**_

The next few days were a blur. I threw myself into my work and when I get back home, I focused on researching YLN and their clients. I didn't find anything incriminating so far, but I continued because I promised to do so to Darren, and it was easier to think about other problems than my own.

For what it's worth, it made my loneliness a little less unbearable.

Dylan has repeatedly invited me to follow him whenever he went out, but I couldn't. I knew he wanted to make me forget about Susannah, but the idea of meeting other women was not appealing to me. As stupid as it sound, it made me feel like I was betraying her.

A fool, that's who I was. But I couldn't help it, could I?

I just didn't think it would all escalate into an even worse situation than the one I was in.

I was home one evening, just back after a particularly tiring double shift. Placingmy keys on the table in the hallway, I checked my messages. There were two, one from my mother and another from my sister Marta. Both were asking me to come to my parents' house this weekend for lunch. I paused, and then let the messages died out without replying them with a phonecall.

Since Susannah left me, I haven't been to my parents' house or even paid them a visit. It was just too painful for me.

After hearing those messages on an exhaustingday, all I wanted was to have some food, fall into my bed and sleep peacefully. But just as I was finishing my dinner, my pager beeped.

_Emergency. Steven Stanley._

I must have driven past the speed limit in my haste to get to the hospital. But even if the police had asked me to stop, I couldn't slow down. Not when Steven was concerned.

Rushing down the hallway, I dodged a few patients and staffs, making my way to his room. I wasn't even wearing my uniform, but there was no time. I heard someone call my name, but I didn't have time. I didn't have _time_.

Neither did Steven.

When I shoved the room door open, I saw that a team of doctors and nurses were slowly putting away the equipments, a forlorn expression on their faces. One of the nurses, Lisa, pulled the sheet over Steven's face.

"What…what are you doing?" I gasped, still catching my breath from my run up here.

Everyone turned towards me, and one of my colleagues, Jamie, said slowly, "He had a heart attack. We tried to stabilize him, but it was too much for him. He didn't make it."

Still breathing hard, I shook my head and dropped down into one of the chairs at the end of the bed. No, no, no…

I couldn't believe it. How could he have an attack, just like that?

"But…his condition was stable. He was healthy, he just wasn't waking up…" I mumbled to myself, not caring if I sounded stupid. I _felt_ stupid.

"Well, I think you know him best since he was your patient. That's why they paged you, and we were hoping to stabilize him while we wait for you to arrive. I'm sorry, Jesse," Jamie said quietly, his hand on my shoulder.

"You tried everything?" I asked, though I knew they had.

"Everything."

I'm glad Jamie didn't protest the fact I was basically questioning his work, but he was going along with my behavior. I needed to know that they had tried everything for Steven, because I wasn't there.

How could this _happen_? All this time I was at the hospital, 18 hours each day and nothing was happening to him. He just slept peacefully in his own world, oblivious to visitors and doctors and nurses.

And then I left, and he also left, without as much of a goodbye or a "I'll tell you who did this to me so you can inform the police and arrest the person responsible."

I shook my head again, sighing at the injustice of it all.

"I'll inform the coroner," Jamie said, as the other staffs filed out of the room.

"Thank you, Jamie." I managed a small smile, grateful for his help.

Then I was alone in the room, with the departed Steven Stanley.

I would be lying if I tell you that I wasn't expecting any ghostly visits during the next few minutes. In fact, I was almost gripping the chair as I sat, alert to any sounds or voices that might tell me that I was in fact, not alone.

It was deathly quiet in the room.

Some people might be afraid to be alone in a room with a corpse, but I was used to it. Life, death…that was what my life revolved around. Whether as a mediator, or as a doctor. Sometimes it all became unclear, the rules of saving the living and guiding the dead.

There was a knock, and I jumped, my heartbeat instantly racing. Then the door opened and the coroner's assistant, a young man named Nicholas walked in pushing a gurney, followed by another member of the Morgue Crew. That's what they called themselves, apparently a reference to some rock band.

"Dr. De Silva," Nicholas said, looking surprised. "They told me to take the body, is it-"

"Yes, go ahead," I said, standing up. "I was waiting for you."

Obviously I was lying, but I wasn't in the right mind to weigh my sins at that moment.

"Okay." Then Nicholas and the other man went to the bed and started to lift Steven, at which point I decided I have had enough and walked out.

Jamie was standing at the counter, writing something. When he saw me, he beckoned me over.

"I've informed Mr. Stanley's family, since I didn't think you'd want to do that."

"But I'm his doctor." I said, although he was right about me not wanting to do that.

It was one of the things I hated about being a doctor, informing a patient's family that I wasn't good enough to save their brother, or husband, or wife.

Then again doctors are not gods.

"Yes, but I was the one who was there when he passed away. I could describe what exactly happened to his family, and I did," Jamie said as closed some files and arranged them. "I think you need to go home and get some rest. Everyone knows how much work you've been putting in lately."

I frowned, suspicions growing in my mind. "Did Dylan put you up to this?"

Jamie laughed, and I admit it was a funny idea, since Jamie was 55 years old with four grown children and Dylan, the fun loving bachelor, wasn't the type of person usually in his circle of peers.

"Dylan's not the only one with eyes, you know," Jamie said, smiling. "Go home. I'll take care of anything that comes up."

I sighed, and nodded. "Thanks for everything. Call me, if you need –"

"Go," he said firmly, making sure that I had moved from my spot before he went on his way.

When I thought about it later, I couldn't remember walking to the lifts and across the lobby as I headed outside. In other words, I was worrying about Darren coming after me with a butcher knife, accusing me of not working hard enough to find out about YLN until Steven finally died.

But his accusations would be baseless now, because I had researched on them, and I found nothing.

A part of me hoped that Steven would become a ghost and solve this mystery, but a part of me filled with guilt for even thinking that way. Maybe his illness was due to a natural cause, just like I suspected.

Yet that heart attack…

No matter what I tell myself, I would still feel guilty. I felt like I was meant to protect Steven, find out what happened which led to him being in the hospital, and I didn't. Because I was too busy 'moping around', like Darren had said.

I had failed, and that wasn't something which could be easily forgotten, or forgiven.

I had walked out of the hospital before I realized that it was raining. I was too busy thinking about Steven that the rumble of the clouds and the splash of rainwater didn't register in my head. And to my luck, I had parked my car across the street, not bothering to enter the basement parking lot in my hurry.

The rain wasn't heavy, so I decided to take a chance and dash across the street to my car. I was almost successful, stepping quickly into the pavement when someone barreled into me.

Surprised, I steadied myself and caught the woman on her arm as she burst out a stream of apologies, saying something about her slippery new shoes.

I held her arm as she straightened herself, ready to tell her not to worry about it.

But they died on my lips when the woman looked up. I felt my heart slowed down to a halt as I stared into a pair of very familiar green eyes.

_Susannah_.

She looked surprised to see me, her eyes wide. And then she blinked them a few times, bothered by the smattering of the rain.

But slowly, she looked up at me again, her expression hesitant.

I had no idea what I looked like, but I imagined it wasn't appealing. I had rushed out of the house in a hurry, and I was still dazed from the news of Steven's death. But an undeniable torrent of emotions were running through me, all jumbled and confused that I could barely breathe, much less think.

All of these days of dreaming about her, of secretly longing for a glimpse, of trying to painfully forget she ever existed…and she was right here in front of me.

The rain was coming down hard now, pounding down my back. We were the only ones standing in the sidewalk while other people were frantically entering buildings and escaping the rain. But it was as if we had been frozen, trapped under the gaze of one another.

Her light sweater was soaked, her hair was wet, and rain was running down her beautiful face.

Yet she didn't make any moves to find shelter. She just stood there, her arm still held by my hand.

_Dios_, she was so _beautiful_. My heart ached as I took in everything about her…her eyes, her skin, her lips…_querida_…

I was drenched from the rain, but I felt heat rising from within, my body thrilling with expectation. It was as if my senses had deserted me, and all I could think of was to pull her in my arms and kiss her.

I reached up and traced a finger down the side of the face, and to my surprise and relief, she didn't pull away. Her green eyes continued to stare at me and her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something. But she didn't.

It was wrong of me, making a move on another man's woman.

But I tried to rationalize by thinking about how there was a time when I was that man. And for whatever reasons, lust or love, this feeling inside of me was uncontainable.

I leaned forward and captured her lips with mine.

I tasted rain and that intoxicating essence of Susannah. Her lips were so soft under mine, and I moved my mouth a little harder, hungry with my selfish needs. My hands had moved on their own accord, dragging up her arms and cupping her face, trying to get as much of her as I could, as if she could vanish in the next moment.

And then I felt her lips respond, and the pleasure that I felt before was unmatched with this new ecstasy.

It was as if she had come alive from the kiss, and I felt her hands ran on my chest, sliding around my neck as she pulled me closer, her lips moving fervently against mine. I gripped her waist, embracing her slender figure, feeling her heart pounding in tune with mine, feeling like I could burst from the unbelievable joy of finally having her in my arms.

The cold rain was still pouring down but I felt none of it. My skin was on fire, the heat inside me now scorching hot, yearning for more kisses and even more touches, wanting her silky skin bare against mine, exploring every curve and hearing her voice calling my name, knowing that it was me that she was thinking of.

This feeling, this bliss…a few seconds of her touch was enough to erase all the pain I had felt the past few weeks. It was like they never happened. How could they, when this passion was alive inside of her as it was inside of me?

Somewhere in my mind, I knew that we were in public. But I couldn't stop. I wanted her.

I _needed_ her.

Maybe because I knew that these lips, this skin, this woman…was no longer mine. That was when the fantasy would end.

And just like that, it did.

She pulled away from me, her hands on my shoulders. I opened my eyes and looked at her, my heart beating so hard I was sure she could hear it. Her expression wasn't anything I could describe, because she looked beautiful and that was all I could concentrate on.

But when she stepped back and I really looked at her, it was easy to know what she was thinking.

She was sorry.

Sorry that we had parted? Sorry that she had kissed me?

I didn't know. I couldn't ask, or to be honest, I was afraid to.

But she didn't give me a chance to do anything. With a shake of her head, she turned and hurried away, down the street before disappearing around the corner.

The whole thing couldn't have lasted more than a minute.

For a moment I was sure I had been hallucinating, but when I looked into my hand and saw a bracelet made of a string of blue-green stones, I knew it had been real. In my insane act of fulfilling my desire for Susannah, I had accidentally pulled her bracelet, the one which her mother had given her for her birthday.

I groaned, feeling incredibly foolish and ashamed. How could I have acted that way? Lose my control like a child being given a piece of candy? Susannah deserved better than to be pawed senselessly by a crazy ex-boyfriend.

Cursing myself, I got into my car and drove away, the bracelet placed on the dashboard. I had to return it to her, of course. I just didn't know whether I was capable of controlling myself if I was to see her again.

I couldn't go back home, because the rooms just reminded me of the good times we've had there.

I drove around in circles, angry and embarrassed at my behavior. I couldn't even blame Steven's death for how I acted, because I had imagined that encounter in my dreams for a long time before this. Never did I think it would happen.

But her eyes, the way she looked at me before the kiss…there was something in them that made me wonder if she didn't feel the same way about me.

And she did return my kiss. Or maybe she was just being polite.

I cursed again, turning into an unfamiliar street. There was a commotion up front, and when I drove by I saw that it was a club.

'Club V', it announced in bright gold lettering, shining from the lights from within. How fitting. As if fate has conspired to produce supposed coincidences in my life, waiting for me to fall into their plan.

I had no excuses for what I did next, save from temporary insanity. I've had that moment before, so why not now?

Parking the car a few spaces away, I got out and walked to the entrance. It was still drizzling, but there was a long queue of people waiting to enter the club. I ignored them and walked straight to the door.

'Hey buddy, get in the line,' the man standing outside the door said in a harsh tone, stopping me in my tracks.

I didn't know what came over me, but it was as if I knew what I was doing when the truth was, I did not. I had never been to a club before. But I needed to get away from it all, and Maria Valera's words just came back to my head.

I pulled out the blue gold card she gave me and showed it to the man. He glanced at it and instantly looked apologetic.

"Sorry man, sure, come in," he said nicely, and moved aside. Without a word, I walked in, ignoring the jeers of the people who were waiting in line.

The second I entered, I was assaulted by loud music, bright colorful lights and what appeared to be hundreds of people gyrating around the dance floor. Disoriented, I almost turned around and left when I felt someone pulling on my sleeve. I looked up and saw Maria.

"Doctor Jesse! You're here!" She yelled to make herself heard, and threw me a hug. I stood there unmoving, as she pulled away quickly, making a face. "You're drenched. But that's alright, you can get warmed up in the VIP room."

I saw that she was wearing what seemed to be a sparkly silver dress, and her high heels gave no indication of her recent injury.

What the hell was I doing here?

"I knew you'd come," she grinned, either purposefully ignoring or merely unconcerned about my lack of reaction to seeing her. She just smiled, her red lips reminding me of blood. I suddenly felt sick, but she was pulling me along a walkway of some sort, away from the dance floor and towards where the bars were.

I was about to ask her to stop pulling me, when an older man in a dark brown suit walked by and said gruffly, "Who is this, Maria?"

"Oh, this is Jesse, a new friend of mine. He's a doctor," she said, sounding awed, and I wondered if she dated Dylan just because he was a doctor and nothing more. "Jesse, this is my boyfriend, Felix."

I wondered if he was a doctor too, but I doubted it.

"Nice to meet you," Felix said, nodding at me and not at all sounding as if he meant what he said. "You here to have fun, yes?"

I didn't know what to say, but Maria cut in, "Of course he is. I was going to bring him to the VIP room."

Felix grinned. "Yes, you will have fun there. Many girls for your entertainment." He winked, and then walked away.

I stood there in shock, understanding his meanings perfectly.

I might be moping over Susannah, but I wasn't going to be with other girls.

Maria started to pull me again, but I held my ground. When she turned with a confused look on her face, I told her, "I think I'll just stay here."

'Here? At the _bar_?' She sounded incredulous at the thought of someone preferring the open bar instead of her private room.

"Yes, here.'

"Well…if you say so,' she said hesitantly, then when she saw that I was certain in my decision, she shrugged and turned to look for someone, presumably Felix. When she saw that he was standing quite close to a young blonde woman, she yelled, 'Felix!' and rushed over to him, or tried to, in her ridiculous shoes.

I felt completely out of place, but nevertheless, I made my way to the bar and sat on the stool. The bartender asked me if I wanted anything, but I shook my head.

The music beats pulsated in my ears, in tune with my pounding heart. It was loud and brash, and I felt lost in the sea of people.

I didn't even know where the exit was from where I was sitting. Everywhere I looked, the shadows of people were moving and changing, like a strange theatre of motion.

My intention was to forget about what happened today, but it didn't seem to work. The longer I stayed, the more isolated I felt. My body was lost amongst the people, but my mind was still there.

I wanted to forget, dammit. I wanted to lose all thoughts and forget my wretched existence.

'"Thirsty?"

Maria sidled up next to me, drinks in hands, smiling. I declined, and she placed the glass on the bar.

"If you change your mind," she said, then walked away.

I watched her go, wondering why she was being nice to me. It was as if she just wanted me to be there, and then she left me to my own devices.

Shaking my head, I was about to continue my thoughts when I saw a couple standing near the bar, kissing. They were young, probably still teenagers. The girl had long brown hair.

Immediately my chest started to feel painful and I clenched my fists, imagining Susannah kissing that Oliver.

Where was she right now, if not with him?

I had no damn right to be jealous. But it didn't stop me from being jealous still.

Turning my back on the couple, I faced the bar, bumping the drink that Maria had placed. I stared at the liquor as it sloshed wildly in the glass, feeling overwhelmingly angry and bitter.

Why couldn't I just forget her? She was no longer mine.

Because you're weak. Which was the exact reason why she left you.

I was going to regret this, I knew it.

But I was beyond caring.

Grabbing the glass, I downed the first drink into blissful oblivion.


	11. Formal

If anyone is wondering, this story is not ending just yet. There are a few more chapters to go, but we're getting there. Slow and steady, people.

Not much happens in this chapter, it just allows us to catch up with Suze after the spending the last two chapters with Jessekins. Also, I've never written a wedding scene before, so I hope this one is not too boring or too sappy.

The next chapter should be quite interesting.

Thanks for reading!

Loves, Aina.

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_**Suze**_

As expected, the wedding was perfect.

It was held at Cee Cee's parents' house in San Diego, on the huge backyard of their three-story bungalow. I kinda expected that Cee Cee wouldn't have gone for a traditional church wedding, and I was right. She wanted a summer wedding in the garden, and that was what she got.

I had stayed overnight at her parents' place after we had her bachelorette party at a nearby restaurant. Sadly, there were no strippers because Cee Cee wasn't into "exploitation of the human flesh" or whatever reasons that she gave. But even without naked men, we had a blast, along with four of her workmates slash friends who would be the bridesmaids during the wedding.

That morning, I dressed up in my coral maid-of-honors dress and watched as Cee Cee got ready for her big day. She had hired a makeup artist who was recommended by one of her friend, and Annette, the dressmaker who fitted her wedding gown had sent one of her assistants, Lori, to make sure that her dress was worn just perfectly.

"I'm so nervous, I could throw up," Cee Cee said comically, since her mouth was barely moving as the makeup artist, Jessica, applied the lipstick.

I was sitting on one of the chairs near the window in her room, flipping through the invitation list because I had nothing else to do.

"You'll be fine. You're good with all these public stuff, you know that," I assured her.

"That's not what I meant," she said, looking at herself in the mirror above the dresser. "I meant I'm nervous about this whole being married thing. What if I'm not ready?"

Startled, I looked at her. "Cee Cee, you said yourself that you couldn't be more ready if you tried. Remember? This is what you wanted…being legally bound with Adam, as you said it."

She gave a little laugh. "That sounded so unromantic."

"Well, you have more time for the romantic stuff later," I grinned.

She laughed again, then kept still while Jessica added the last touch of make up on her face.

Once Jessica was done, she spoke again, sounding worried, "But…what if I'm not ready to be a wife? What if I screw it up and…" she broke off, looking almost upset.

I was surprised beyond words. I had never seen Cee Cee this nervous, or this terrified before. Not even when she was almost arrested for protesting against child labor outside one of Nike's shops a few years ago. It was just not in her character to back down.

Pulling the chair, I set it beside hers and held her hand. It was cool to the touch, probably because she was experiencing the last breaking nerves.

"Cee Cee, I don't know what it's like to be in you position now, so I won't pretend to understand. But what I do know is that you're one of the bravest people I know, and also one of the most kindhearted and caring person I have ever met. If not _the _most caring. That's why I have no doubt that you will be great as a wife, as a mother, or just… you know, as a married woman. Adam is so happy to be with you, believe me. So don't doubt yourself, especially not today."

Oh crap, she was tearing up. Jessica's going to kill me.

"Suze…" she sniffed, quickly grabbing a tissue and dabbing at the corner of her violet eyes, before breaking into a smile. "I'm glad you're here, I don't think I can do without your pep talk."

I waved it off. "You're talking to the former Junior Class Vice-President here, remember?"

"How could I forget?" She grinned, before our heart-to-heart was interrupted by a screech by Jessica, who had just realized what had happened and was frantically trying to repair Cee Cee's eye shadow. Luckily, she spared my life, understanding what an emotional day it could be for brides everywhere.

As Cee Cee went off to change into her wedding gown, I looked out of the bedroom window that opened into the side of the house. People were milling around, mostly the caterers who had set up the tents just at the side of the yard where the ceremony would be. Cee Cee's parents had really splurged on this wedding, considering she's their only child and they obviously wanted the best for her.

Looking at the couples who were arriving for the wedding, inadvertently the thought that I had been avoiding the most surfaced again.

I didn't want to think about it. The thing which happened two days ago. But sometimes it just popped up and I couldn't make it go away.

It was my fault. I was rushing to go back home after sending off the files of my current case to the court in order to pack and get ready for Cee Cee's party. It was raining, and I wasn't watching where I was going, and the fact that I was wearing the new shoes that I would be wearing today to break them in…and then when I bumped into someone and almost fell…

I swear I nearly had a heart failure when I saw who that someone was. I just stopped breathing, basically.

He had held my arms, and oh God…just thinking about it again made my face heat up.

The way he was looking at me, like he wanted to take me there and then.

I closed my eyes, but the images and the feelings of that day kept rushing back.

We had looked at each other for what felt like forever, and then in a move that made me wonder if it was just a long-time dream coming true, he kissed me.

I must have melted. Because my legs could barely hold me up the moment that sensuous mouth was touching mine, making my heart explode like fireworks that Gandalf had set alight for the hobbit kids.

I tried to resist it, believe me, I tried. I was aware that I couldn't be kissing him because I would be betraying my lie, the one where I was supposed to be with another man. The one where I had chosen poor unknown Oliver over him.

But I couldn't. I wasn't that strong. So I just gave in. For that brief moment, just to feel his love, his passion, his desire. I was using him to make me feel alive again after feeling like I had awaken from the grave the past few weeks, and I knew I was being selfish. Even though his touch was shooting sparks in my stomach, even though the feel of his smooth skin under my hands was addictive, even though his kiss was making my head spin with all the clashing sensations…

I had to stop before it got much further. Before I started deluding myself that after the kiss, there could be _us._

So I pulled away, instantly feeling sorry that it had to end, blaming myself for being weak. I couldn't look into those gorgeous dark eyes without feeling like I could break into pieces, and so I ran, escaping the soaring dream into stark reality.

Sighing, I sat down on the chair by the window again.

My lips still tingled whenever I remembered that kiss, but I didn't want to remember. The pleasure of it was only balanced with the pain that came after.

Jesse, I miss you…wherever you are.

Luckily when I told Cee Cee that Jesse couldn't make it to her wedding, she didn't push it. I didn't explain, not wanting to burden her with my problems. Especially since she had been so helpful during the time when I was dragging myself with my stupid broken leg the last couple of weeks.

She had been in Washington on a job, and so she couldn't come but luckily Adam was there to pick me up from the hospital and helped me move back home. And then Fiona became my chauffer, driving me to the office and back home everyday for two weeks. When Cee Cee came back, she made sure that my car was repaired and taken care of.

Mom and Andy also came to visit me later, admonishing me for not telling them about my accident earlier. My mom was the one who drove me to the hospital last week to get my cast taken off, and then she and Andy went back to Carmel because they had to oversee the renovation of the porch of that old house.

When I think about it, I had so many people who really cared about me. My own personal network. I didn't need Jesse after all. I had my family and friends.

Then again, none of them could give me the heart-stopping kisses like he can.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Cee Cee's footsteps, and when I turned around, I saw her practically shining with beauty and delight. Her wedding gown had a wide neckline, showing off her fair shoulders, with long sleeves that flared at her wrists, and the bodice were of silk-satin, wrapped around her top down to her waist before falling gracefully into a soft twirl. She didn't want any trains, but her veil made up for it, trailing down her to the floor. The ceremony would be held under the tent so there was no danger of her sensitive skin being affected by the sun.

"You look gorgeous," I squealed, thrilled for her.

"You know what? I think so too," she laughed, and I realized that all her worries had been finally been banished.

- 0 – 0 – 0-

The flower girls walked down the aisle first, followed by the four bridesmaids.

And then it was my turn and I felt more than a little self-conscious when everyone turned to watch me walk and I was just praying that I wouldn't fall flat on my face, what's with my new shoes and all.

But it went alright, and when I saw Adam standing at the end of the aisle, I couldn't help but smile.

He had a tux on, and his hair had been combed properly and he just looked so handsome. He grinned when he saw me, and I went to stand besides the bridesmaids, giving him a discreet thumb's up.

Then the music started and Cee Cee finally walked down the aisle, holding her dad's arm while her other hand held a bouquet of flowers. I could hear a gasp here and there from the many guests, the cameras started flashing and even behind her veil, I could see her beaming from across the yard. To say that Adam gawked would be an understatement.

I didn't blame him. I had never seen Cee Cee looked so beautiful.

Cee Cee's dad gave her away, and then she and Adam turned to face the minister, a friend of her parents' who was invited to conduct the ceremony. They repeated the vows, exchanged the rings and five minutes later, with a simple line of "I now pronounce you husband and wife" and a joyful kiss, they were officially married.

I think I shed a tear or two. But don't tell anyone.

Once the official stuff was done, everyone moved to the other tent where the tables for food and drinks had been set up. The band which Adam had hired was playing the music in the background, and the food was great and everything was going so well.

After Adam's best friend, Eric, had given his speech as the best man, everyone started glancing at me and I realized that I had to say something. I started to panic, not wanting to give a speech yet as the maid-of-honour, I was expected to give one. But then I realized that I didn't have to rehearse for anything. I already knew what I had to say.

So, taking a deep breath, I clanged the spoon twice on my champagne glass to catch everyone's attention, and when they had quietened down, I stood up.

"Hello everyone," I began, lamely. But I pushed through. Quickly done, quickly over. "I'm Suze Simon, and I'm the bride's maid-of-honour who doubles as her best friend." For some reason some people laughed at that. I wasn't trying to be funny though. I was too nervous.

Then I continued, "I also knew the groom, in fact, I had known both the bride and the groom since high school, where we attended the same school in Carmel. This friendship was not intentional, by the way. I had moved to Carmel during junior year and being the loner that I was, I had no intentions of befriending anyone. Teenagers, you know." Smiles were exchanged as people looked at each other and were all, 'Ah yes, I remember being at that age…'

"But after a memorable encounter, Cee Cee and I became friends, and she introduced me to Adam. From that moment on, both of them were my constant companions, giving me support when I needed it and also when I said I didn't need but I actually did." More smiles. "I knew that something was going on between them, something romantic, but it took a long time before they realized it. Needless to say, I was very happy when these two finally admitted their feelings to each other. I mean, look at how cute they are!"

The guests cheered and clapped, and Adam leaned over and gave Cee a kiss on the cheek, making her blush.

"Well, all I want to say is thank you for your friendships in all of these years and…my best friend married my other best friend. What more could I ask? I know you will have a wonderful life together, because you deserve it. Both of you," I ended, looking at the two happy lovebirds.

The tented yard was quiet, and I had to swallow a few times to keep myself from tearing up. Cee Cee and Adam were smiling at me, and I raised my glass and said, "To Cee Cee and Adam!"

Everyone echoed the line and toasted the newlyweds, and then applauded as I sat down. Cee smiled from beside me, and I gave her a hug, making sure that I didn't mess up her veil. Then I heard Adam said, "That wasn't too bad, Simon!"

I released Cee and looked over at him. "Thank you. You're not too bad, either, McTavish."

He smirked. "Of course not. Look who I end up with."

Waggling my finger at him, I said sternly, "You better take good care of her, or I'll hunt you down and kick your butt!"

Cee laughed, and Adam grinned. "Don't worry, I will take good care of her, starting tonight. She'll have the best time of her life."

"Too much info!" I exclaimed in horror, while Cee swatted his arm, embarrassed. But she didn't protest when he leaned over and kissed her.

I started giggling at them, before I caught myself. Giggling? Must be the champagne.

Later, they took their first dance as a married couple and everyone joined them on the floor, while I sat at the table and watched.

I was happy for them because I knew how happy they were.

But I couldn't help feeling a little envious of their relationship, knowing how easy they stayed together without any major problems. Of course I didn't want to feel sorry for myself, but I just couldn't help but wonder if I could ever be as happy as that. If there was any man who could make me smile the way Cee Cee does whenever Adam looked at her in that special way.

No, I should rephrase that. I should say if there was any _available_ man who could make me feel that way. Because I could think of one man who could make me happy, if only we could be together.

Maybe I was stupid to let him go. Maybe I had made a mistake.

But what good was hope, if hope doesn't guarantee a future?

I guess there was nothing wrong with being alone. I didn't need to be married. I didn't need to have kids. If I ever want one, I could always adopt. Independent woman and all that.

Then again, nothing could substitute pure love, right?

I spent the whole afternoon in that vein, thinking whether I had made the right decision, doubting and reassuring myself in turns. It came to the point where I fear I could become a schizophrenic. Not enough with being a mediator as my alter-ego, apparently.

There were a few guys who were throwing me significant looks, waiting to see if I was open for a dance. When I noticed that happening, I quickly pretended I was eating, or I would get up and started to talk to one of the bridesmaids. It wasn't that the guys were ugly or anything, it was just that I didn't have the heart to turn them down if they did ask me for a dance.

This wouldn't have happened if I had actually brought a partner to the wedding.

But I stopped my self-pitying thoughts just enough to walk Cee Cee and Adam out of the garden and into the street as the sun was setting, along with all the guests who were throwing confetti and taking pictures like crazy.

Amidst all the chaos, I managed to catch Cee's eyes and she blew me a kiss, before getting into the white rented limo. Smiling, I waved them off as they drove away to their honeymoon, the sign "Just Married" hanging off the back of the car.

And that was that. They were gone, leaving me feeling elated and also, a little empty.

- 0 – 0 – 0 -

I drove back home that evening, declining Cee Cee's parent's invitation to stay the night over. I knew they had some relatives who were visiting and I didn't want to interrupt any family stuff. Without Cee Cee there, I felt like an outsider, even though I knew her parents very well.

I had changed into my normal clothes when I left, and as soon as I arrived, I hung the dress that I wore for the wedding and took a quick shower, my soft bed beckoning me. I was exhausted beyond belief.

My feet ached from the high heels, my face itched from the make up I had been forced to put on and my eyes were spotty with all the flashes from the cameras today. I must have taken close to 50 pictures, with the bride and the groom, and the random people who wanted to take a picture with the maid-of-honor. I had never smiled so much in my life.

After the shower, I changed into one of my oversized T-shirts and promptly fell asleep.

The next day was a Sunday, so I had planned on sleeping in, guessing that I would be tired from the wedding.

I was right about being tired. What I was wrong on was the fact that I was able to sleep in.

This was because I was rudely awakened from my deep slumber by the door bell ringing insistently and annoyingly. At first I tried to ignore it, hoping that whoever it was would leave. But when it rang again and again, I groaned and turned over to the side table, searching for the clock.

It was 9.15 a.m. Who the _hell _wakes up this early on a freaking Sunday?

Groggy and pissed off, I slowly got up, put on my robe and stumbled sleepily to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. The bell rang again, and I yelled, "Coming!"

God, I was going to give an earful to whomever it was that had the nerve to wake me up this early. I mean, whatever the problem was, surely it could wait a few more hours.

I stalked to the door and unlatched the lock, preparing to yell my head off to that person. If it was the landlord or somebody from my apartment, there would be some broken cartilages. I figured I could get away with the defense of temporary insanity – or sleepiness.

Twisting the knob, I swung the door open, ready to rant.

But the person who stood there was someone I totally did not expect.

"_Dylan?_ "

His blue eyes were cold. "We need to talk."


	12. Fraud

I'm very sorry for the really late update. I've been busy with school, and I'm happy to say that I've graduated from university! No more studying!

So now I'm looking for jobs and I don't know if can keep up with my fics. I will try my best, but with the demise of MCBC I have to say that my interest in the Mediator book has been waning. Though I really hope I can finish my stories, or at least, this one.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope this chapter is alright considering I haven't written anything in a long time and my characterization may be off.

Loves, Aina

* * *

_**Suze**_

I didn't know how long I just stood there and stared at him, until he asked if he could come in. I was tempted to say no, considering the look on his face and the fact that my apartment was pretty much in a mess.

But I stepped aside, and Dylan practically stomped in, his face like thunder.

I knew this must have something to do with Jesse, and my body quickly filled with cold dread.

"What the hell is going on?" he said all of a sudden, swerving to face me as I closed the door.

I narrowed my eyes. "Shouldn't I be the one to ask –"

"I mean, you and Jesse. What is going on? First you two are together, then you're breaking up, then you're together again and now you're not? Can't you two just make up your minds?" he stopped, looking hard at me.

Despite the truth in his words, I felt my blood simmer. I mean, who wanted to wake up on a Sunday morning to be shouted at by your ex-boyfriend's best friend?

"Dylan, I don't think it's any of your damn business," I snapped, crossing my arms and fixing him an equally hard look.

"Of course it's my business, when one half of this confusing couple is my best friend and I don't even know if I can call him my best friend anymore, since I could barely recognize him whenever I see him," he said, and started pacing around the living room.

I sighed. "Look, I don't know how much you know, but we decided that we weren't meant to be together, and that's it. We're just not together."

He stopped and glared at me again. "You mean, both of you decided or _you _decided?"

"What does it matter? It's over, okay. Now if you're here to yell at me-"

"Do you have any idea how bad he's feeling right now? Huh, Suze? Do you?"

I paused and without invitation, the sadness that was so obvious on Jesse's face the day I met him flashed into my mind. God only knew how much I understood that look, even on the day of my best friend's wedding.

"He's sad. I can understand. I feel the same way…but I know he will get over it," I said, even though part of me was hoping, selfishly, that he would never get over me.

Dylan scoffed. "You can understand. I see. It's so _easy_ for you to understand when you're off with a new guy, starting a new relationship, not thinking twice about the fact you just dumped the man you're supposedly so in love with not two months ago. Yeah, Suze, I can see how you can understand."

My face heated at the sarcasm in his tone. I felt ashamed, not because that he thought I didn't understand but because in actual fact, there was no other man in my life.

I had told so many lies that it wasn't even hard for me to believe that there could actually be another man in my life. Otherwise, how could I have ended things with Jesse, right? What sane woman would?

"You don't understand," was all I could reply, and I knew I had said the wrong thing because he practically went ballistic the next second.

"You're right, Suze, I don't understand! I don't understand how someone like Jesse could change just because of something you did. _God dammit,_ do you have any idea what happened to Jesse last night?"

My heart lurched before pounding like crazy, making my chest felt constricted.

"What happened to him?" I quickly asked, fearing the worst. Please don't tell me he was hurt, please don't…

Dylan stared at me, his voice filled with disgust. "I found him in a club, drunk out of his mind. So drunk that he could barely walk, and I had to freaking drive him home even though he was so out he didn't even know who the hell I was. And the worse part is, the night before he had done the exact same thing, only I wasn't there to drive him home. Someone else did."

I had to sit down, because my knees suddenly felt weak. The idea of Jesse drinking has never even crossed my mind, and if Dylan didn't look so serious, I had half a mind to ask him if he was joking.

"Is he alright?" I asked, not so sure that someone like Jesse, who had never drink for fun, would be alright consuming that much alcohol in that short of a time.

"Other than missing work this morning due to what I'm guessing a massive hangover, he's just peachy," he said sarcastically, and I had to look away, not being able to meet the cynical look in his eyes.

"Who was the person who drove him home the other night?" I asked, wondering if I should thank the person for bringing Jesse back safely – even though he apparently visited the club again, and drinking again…

Dylan was right. Even I didn't recognize Jesse now. And whose fault was that, exactly?

"One of my ex-girlfriends," he answered reluctantly and my head snapped up, my eyes searching his face.

"What do you mean your ex?" It didn't occur to me that a woman would be driving Jesse home.

Don't think that way, Suze. Just don't.

He sighed. "Her family owns a chain of night clubs in town, and from what I understand, she met him at the hospital and offered him to come to her club. For whatever reason he did, and the first night when he got drunk, she drove him home. Yesterday when I saw him outside the club with her, obviously I thought I had gone to another planet or something, so I asked her what happened since he wasn't exactly in the condition to talk and that's how I knew he had been there before."

I stared at him, but in a way I wasn't looking at him. I was in a daze, my mind racing to comprehend the fact that Jesse was out with another woman. And if I remembered correctly, Jesse said the woman Dylan dated weren't his type – translated: they were easy.

But how can you tell the difference when you're drunk?

"Did he…has he said anything about why he was there?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.

Dylan shook his head. "Like I said, his communication skills had been temporarily numbed by the alcohol. I don't even remember what I said to him yesterday, I just remember yelling some crap about him drinking in the first place. I mean, there's nothing wrong with drinking but this is Jesse we're talking about here. I've never seen him that way before."

I swallowed, rationalizing that what Jesse chose to do, how he led his life was his business. It wasn't my fault.

So why did I feel this heaviness in my heart?

"Look, Suze, just tell me the truth. Did you lead Jesse on? Did you pretend to love him because you feel sorry that he loves you when in fact you're in love with someone else? And then when you couldn't keep up with the act anymore, you left him?"

I drew a sharp intake of breath, surprised by what he just said. I met his stare with my own and when I spoke, my voice shook because I was trying so hard to contain my anger.

"I had _never_ pretended to love Jesse. I loved him with all my heart, and that was not an act. You can come in here and say anything to my face but don't you _dare_ question my feelings for Jesse. I couldn't believe you would suggest something like that, after what you know Jesse and I had been through," I said harshly, and a tad defensively.

But he didn't look entirely convinced.

He gave me a stony look, before saying, "So why did you leave him? If you really," he started to mimic my tone, "love him with all your heart, then why? Is it his parents? You gave him up because of his parents?"

"What do you know about his parents?" I retorted, standing up so quickly from the sofa that my knee bumped the coffee table. Pain shot up my leg but I ignored it. "You don't know what it was like having to sneak around, acting like we were fugitives, like we were doing something wrong. We just had a _relationship_. We weren't hurting anybody!"

"Alright, then. So you left him because of his parents?" Dylan asked, his eyebrow raised.

"No! Well, yes…in a way. But also because of Oliver," I said quickly, realizing I almost gave myself out from what I just said.

He gave me a humorless smile. "So you left Jesse because you're in love with Oliver?"

I frowned, knowing what he was implying. If I said yes, it meant I had left Jesse for Oliver. On the other hand, if I said no, it meant I left Jesse because of his parents. Which is the truth. But I couldn't let him know that.

"Yes, of course," I lied yet again, hoping the lightning wouldn't strike me to the ground.

I remembered Father Dominic frowning on my behavior, saying that I shouldn't lie to my mom whenever I go out to fight ghosts and tell her the truth about what I was doing. I was never good with telling the truth.

Dylan looked at me for a second, then shrugged. "Okay. If you want to tell yourself that, go right ahead. Personally, I don't even think this Oliver exists."

"Of course he does!" I replied. That much _was_ true.

"Whatever you say, Suze." He was heading towards the door, but he turned to look at me scornfully once again. "So why did you reacted so badly when I mentioned Jesse's parents? I struck a nerve, didn't I?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean –"

"If you don't want to be with Jesse because you can't stand his parents, why didn't you just tell him the truth? Why make up some lame story about another man?"

I shook my head, even though he was so close to the truth, he could touch it. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about…"

He must have seen something in my eyes because instead of continuing to the door, he moved towards me.

"How could you, Suze? How could you lie right to his face – and to mine? You've fallen out of love with him because of his parents but you don't have the guts to tell him the truth. So you make up some lame-ass story about the notorious Oliver and poor Jesse ate it all up. Because he just wanted the best for you. But you've never even thought of what's best for him, the consequences of what you've done. You just want a way out!" He was on a roll, and I couldn't stop him. "Go on, Suze, tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that you really don't love him after all!"

"_Shut up_! You don't understand!" I yelled, my ears ringing with his accusations. "Why do you care so much, it's none of your business!"

"I care because he's my friend! Like I thought you'd care, the way you proclaimed your love for him!" he bellowed back in my face.

"I do care! That's why I left him, because that's best for him!"

"Are you insane? He's freaking in love with you, how can you leaving him be the best for him? Stop lying, Suze!"

"I'm _not_ lying!" I cried, and that's when it all came tumbling out.

I dropped down onto the couch, sobbing like a burst water dam, and I told him everything. Jesse's parents, Oliver, Terry, the will, _everything_. I even told him about YLN though it really had no relevance to the subject at hand. But I just sat there and spilled all the secrets I'd been keeping this few weeks, talking non-stop through the tears and the sobs and the hiccups.

I didn't know if he understood what I had said. But when I was done, he came over and sat beside me.

I looked down to my lap, sniffling pathetically, not wanting to look at him. I was mighty embarrassed, but I also felt so relieved. I never knew how keeping so much inside of me was hurting me.

A bunch of tissue papers was handed to me, and I gratefully took them. He still hadn't said anything, and I took the opportunity to wipe my tear-stained face.

I just hoped he wouldn't ask me to repeat everything I just said. For some reason people always make me do that, repeating the things I just said.

Dylan exhaled loudly, and I finally looked at him. Despite his leather jacket and black jeans, he looked so serious I would have believed him if he said he was going to perform a surgery in the next few minutes. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and then he too, looked at me.

But the look in his eyes was no longer accusatory, just sorry. Perhaps even a little guilty.

Though I didn't really blame him for yelling at me. He had good reasons to do so.

"I'm sorry, Suze. I didn't know…" he appeared to be lost for words, and I felt braver all of a sudden, as if him knowing the truth gave me strength somehow. Because now I had an ally. Unintentionally, but still.

"It's okay. No one knew, that was how I wanted it to be," I said. My nose was stuffy, and I sounded weird. But I couldn't care less.

"All those things I said, I mean –"

"Dylan, I don't blame you for caring about Jesse. He's lucky to have you as a friend. And besides, this is all my fault. I lied and lied, and it's all just caught up with me…" I sighed, feeling so emotionally drained. "I just don't know what else to do. You're the first person to know everything."

"Yeah, I kinda guessed that," he said, smiling that half-smile of his. He looked at the floor as if he was thinking, before he said the one thing I didn't want to hear.

"Suze, you have to tell him the truth."

I looked at him, incredulous. "Did you even listen to what I said just now? The will, and Jesse's dad –"

"I know, I heard it all. But what you don't realize is the fact that you're the one making the decisions, not him. You're not giving Jesse the chance to choose for himself," he said, echoing what was on my mind whenever I thought about what I had done.

"But I'm doing him a favour. How can he choose between his family and me? It's not fair."

"If you ask me, his parents are the ones who's being unfair. That doesn't mean you have to do the same. Just tell him the truth and give him a chance to make his own choices," he said, gently.

I didn't know what to say, so I just kept quiet.

Dylan was right, but the idea of coming clean with Jesse was frightening. I knew he would be angry and he had the right to be, but that wasn't what scared me. It was the possibility that we could be together…and then torn apart again.

Sighing, I shook my head. "I don't know…I mean, I'm not ready."

"Then wait until you're ready. Just don't wait too long, I don't want to babysit him every night," he joked, though there was a serious implication in his words. Jesse, going out drinking again. I didn't want to the reason for him being an alcoholic, that was for sure.

I nodded, and he patted me on the arm before standing up. "I would love to stay and talk more but I'm really late for work."

I stood up too, wiping my face again. "I'm sorry I kept you –"

"No, it's alright, I wanted to come," he cut me off, waving away my apology. "And thanks, Suze, for being honest with me."

A rush of relief and gratitude surged over me, knowing that despite the unpleasant task I had to do, at least there's somebody who'll understand.

- 0 – 0 – 0 –

After Dylan left, there was no way I could go back to sleep so I took a shower, got dressed and had some breakfast.

I toyed with the idea of seeing Jesse, but I told myself that he probably need some rest since he had such a bad hangover and he didn't need me being all emotional on him.

Yeah, basically I was chickening out.

Never mind, I still had time. I decided that since I had nothing else to do, I could do some digging on the YLN issue. I haven't looked into it since my breakup with Jesse because I figured the ghost didn't come to me so it wasn't my deal to handle. But I had to admit the whole conspiracy theory thing was interesting, so I thought I'd looked into it.

I would start with Steven. I had no idea if he was still at the hospital, but I had to try. And since I knew Jesse was at home, there wouldn't be a chance of us bumping into each other.

On my way to the hospital, I checked my phone for messages. I had none.

I felt so unpopular.

When I reached the hospital, I checked the building directory for the wards. I remembered Jesse telling me the floor level, but he didn't tell me the room number.

I stopped at level 9 and walked to the nurses' station, my heart beating a little bit faster as I remembered that the last time I was here, I was a patient. I hoped I won't bump into Dylan since he did say he was heading to work. That would mean I have more explanations to give him, and I wasn't in the mood to do so.

The young blonde nurse at the counter looked up and smiled. "Hello, what can I do for you, miss?"

"Yeah, I want to visit a patient, but I don't know his room number. His name is Steven Stanley," I told her.

"Hold on, I'll check for you." She tapped something onto the computer, and then clicked the mouse a few times.

I watched her, which was why I knew something was wrong even before she told me. It was in her expression. Her smile disappeared and she looked troubled.

"What's wrong?" I asked, worried.

"I'm very sorry, miss," she said slowly, like she was reluctant to tell me the news. "Mr. Stanley passed away two days ago."

"What? How did he die?" I was shocked. I knew he had a heart problem but Jesse said it wasn't serious.

"It says here he had a heart attack. I'm really sorry."

I thanked the nurse and walked away, lost in thoughts. This was so strange. Heart attack, that sounded legit. But if YLN really was getting rid of everyone who opposed them, it didn't mean Steven's death wasn't man-made.

Then I had an idea.

Turning around, I walked back to the station.

"I'm sorry to bother you again, but if you don't mind, I need your help," I said to the same nurse.

She looked surprised, but said, "Sure. How can I help you?"

"Can you check and see who Steven Stanley's visitors were? The thing is, my brother said he'd come and visit him but I don't know if he was telling me the truth. We have a kinda complicated relationship," I bluffed. It sounded so bogus, but it just came to me and I figured I'll just take the chance.

"And what is your relation to Mr. Stanley?"

"Oh, he's our uncle. My brother and Uncle Steven had a disagreement a few years back, and I don't know if they patched things up. He's a real hothead. My brother, I mean."

I thought she didn't look entirely convinced, but then she reached out and pulled out a large book from under the counter. "Here, you can check it yourself."

Well, even better. "Thanks so much," I smiled, and opened the book.

I searched the pages to find the date to two days ago, and when I found it, I read the names one by one to see if anything suspicious popped up. I actually didn't know what I was looking for since how the heck would I know what fake name an YLN spy would put in.

Then I saw a name which made me stop. I didn't recognize it, but there was something off about the name. As if it was familiar, but fake at the same time.

_Jane Carlos._

Oh my God.

I know who the killer is.


End file.
